


When the Ship Comes In

by HagSpice



Series: Twyle Series [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Never Met, Background Heiman - Freeform, Break Up, Character Development, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Loch Ness Monster, M/M, Moving On, Past Style, Pre-Crenny if you squint, Smut Near the End, twyle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 05:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20754935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HagSpice/pseuds/HagSpice
Summary: Shock, anger, depression, acceptance, and everything between. Kyle never does anything half-assed, so why would recovering from a bad breakup be any different?Twyle Week Day 1: Confessions





	When the Ship Comes In

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this idea exploded into something bigger than I planned. Look at me, writing something over 5k and that has a plot! I wrote this for Day 1 because Kyle's discoveries and admissions feel like confessions to himself, and of course, the love confession near the end. FYI there's important narrative after sexy times, so jump to that if you decide to skip that part.
> 
> This fic is part of an AU series where the South Park kids didn't all grow up together. Kyle & Kenny are bffs, as are Tweek & Craig. Kyle had never met Stan before college. I love Style and Stan, so I want to be clear that I'm in no way bashing them. Stan canonically struggles with identity and depression, so it made sense to make him Kyle's ex. Don't worry, he grows up to be a happy, well-adjusted adult. 
> 
> Big thanks to Residentdjinn of the ElderGays for giving me notes when I was banging my head against a wall, and for explaining popular conspiracy theories to me <3

Stray bits of gravel dug into Kyle’s knees as his vision blurred in a swirl of concrete and the sweaty curls hanging down his forehead. His chest wheezed as his lungs deflated, but despite the amount of air he inhaled, none made it went down his throat; it passed his lips, teeth, and tongue only to disapparate. Leaning his palms on the sidewalk, Kyle subjugated himself, sucking in phantom air and wheezing out wasted breath until his body became quiet and still.

_Come on, three more miles, that’s nothing. Accomplish something today, this one thing, then you can you can go back to the apartment and get blitzed out of your mind. Don’t think, just run._

Yeah, but Kyle couldn’t even get drunk properly; thanks to diabetes, the fluctuation in blood sugar fucked him up more than the typical effects of alcohol. A traveler of vodka was far more than enough and had to be chased BGL testing and maybe one of those goopy shots of glucose. God what a freaking ray of sunshine he was. 

He already had a small bottle of vodka, probably almost two gallons of bottled water, nuts, and some dark chocolate in his room. Locked and loaded. The evening would flow seamlessly. He’d run all the way to the front door of his apartment, go straight to the shower, and then climb into bed. Every second accounted for with some robotic routine until he made his mind too fuzzy to form coherent thoughts. Another mile or two would beat back the empty nothingness. He’d be riding high on endorphins instead of… 

_"You’re amazing, Kyle. You’ll meet the right person, and everything will be perfect-” _

_ “You mean perfect like _ ** _your _ ** _ relationship? Oh yeah, I totally plan on keeping a side piece on retainer while I’m supposedly in a monogamous relationship.” _

_ “That’s not fair! It only happened when we were broken up! Besides, you had a choice in this, and you said yes every time.” _

_ “This isn’t just screwing around for me, Stan. I’m in love with you. How can you not see it?” _

_ “Don’t say that. Don’t make this harder than it already is” Panic flooded Stan’s eyes and he took a step backward, snapping his outstretched hand to his chest like Kyle was a cobra ready to strike. _

_ “But I do!” _

_ “No no no no don’t do this, dude. I can’t.” _

_“So this didn’t mean anything to you? Nothing at all?”_

_“Of course it did, you’re my friend!”_

_ “Your friend.” Kyle grabbed the box of condoms and the lube from the nightstand. His words dripped with acid as he threw the things at Stan. “Do you do _ ** _this _ ** _ with all your friends? Or just me, because I’m so ‘amazing’?” _

No, it wasn’t time yet. Not here, not now. Kyle staggered to his feet and turned in a circle, trying to orient himself in the city park. Spotting the nearest crosswalk, he broke into a jog, loping along the path of pea gravel to his goal. However, the insistent gloom trailed after like black storm clouds he couldn’t outrun. Though he would try. With a surge of pure stubbornness, he began a chant of_ Shut up shut up shut up shut up, _to carry him home.

* * *

Kyle’s pale, freckled hand snaked out of the pile of blankets and crept along the surface of his bed. He was the Curiosity rover, discovering foreign terrain for mission, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember the objective. Shit. Hadn’t that robot died? Wait, no. That was Opportunity; it had powered down, too oppressed by the environment to carry on. Opportunity, dead. That was kind of funny, actually; how apropos for his current situation._ You and me both. Godspeed, little buddy. _ He’d recite kaddish for Oppy if he ever found the wherewithal to function again. This, however, was not the best time to wax metaphysical.

Plodding and methodical, Kyle dipped his fingers over the folds of the bedding until they brushed the edge of cool, lacquered wood. As his fingers bumped something small and solid, it tipped over with a soft rattle. He managed to grasp the-_ cylinder _, his brain supplied -and drag it back to base camp. Ah, a small container of almonds. The last act of self-care that he indulged in, before flipping to standby mode.

Shoving a handful of almonds between his lips, he chewed, grimacing at the unwanted food; he may as well have been crushing gravel in between his teeth for all the satisfaction it gave him. While Kyle didn’t give a shit about eating or appetite, he didn’t want to end up in a diabetic coma. His mother would probably have a heart attack. Then he’d really be in trouble, because her ghost ass would hunt him down with more vengeance and rage than Biggie Smalls being pulled away from the party of the millennium on Halloween night.

A rhythmic tapping came from the other side of the room. The sound reminded Kyle of those mechanical metronomes with the little pendulums that swung back and forth. Those were constant, right? The Law of Thermodynamics or something. It would still be there later.

Helpless, Kyle was helpless. Time didn’t exist, yet it crept by at an agonizing pace. When he opened and closed his eyes, he never knew if three hours had passed or only three minutes. But whether or not time existed,_ he _existed. The next time he opened his eyes, it could be next Monday morning and time for class. Or, it could be several minutes from now, and he’d have to suffer through the misery of remaining conscious for the next week. Was one reality worse than the other? If so, Kyle didn’t know. In the end, he’d be where he is now; burrowed in his bed and alone.

Did Stan walk away with his heart and his soul, or had those things fled his body like rats from a sinking ship before he could self-implode? Kyle’s chest was empty and aching, so that must be the reason. But again, did a reason matter? No, not really. At first, Kyle welcomed the empty feeling inside of him, it was a reprieve from the crushing pain of rejection; but too soon, the sensation of nothing at all seemed wrong and disturbing. That the devastation was so overwhelming, his brain simply gave up, only keeping critical functions running. Kyle didn’t ponder on it for long, in favor of slipping back into the numb void.

The rhythmic sound returned, and again, he told it to come back later.

Kyle met Stan at some dumb party Kenny and Tweek had drug him to. Yelling over shitty music while drinking shitty beer wasn’t a pastime of his; he preferred get togethers with under twenty people, control over the music, and under a ten minute walk to his apartment. To his chagrin, Kyle had let his roommates persuade him to come along. 

The house party was college standard issue; faux intellectuals gathered around a hookah and arguing in a corner, a game of kings around the kitchen table, beer pong in the basement, and a makeshift dance floor throughout most of the first floor. It wasn’t an abysmal evening, but not fantastic. As Kenny and Tweek scampered off to interpretive dance to a song Kyle didn’t recognize, he found himself standing alone. 

In a field barren of fucks given, the two moved around each other with an odd grace that had Kyle envious. Not only moving with the beat of the song, they accentuated the cadences and end of the verses, feeling the rhythm with intuition. He could never do that, be free and guided only by instinct while ignoring any judgements. It wasn’t in his nature, he was groomed to seek approval and validation by meeting the expectations of others.

Stan didn’t offer Kyle a drink as an introduction, nor did he lead with a generic pickup line. He was genuinely friendly. They made smalltalk, eventually leaving the room to get another drink and continue their conversation on the patio, where it was quieter. Stan wanted to be a veterinarian, but with the additional schooling, which meant extra time and money, he went with engineering. Apparently, he played baseball for the university. Kyle was surprised, but the more he looked at him, it made sense. He was lean and his arms were lightly lined with definition, his movements were agile and he seemed light on his feet. He was the epitome of all-American boy next door. Kyle found himself looking at Stan an awful lot, which was perhaps why Stan asked him back to his dorm to play Halo.

Thirsty for affection, Kyle didn’t hesitate to leave with Stan once he shyly navigated to that question. The timid question was endearing and so contrite that Kyle knew that Stan was asking him to hang out with no ulterior motive. They engaged in the usual playful nudging and teasing while they played, though things morphed into lingering looks, their legs pressed together, and touches that were nowhere near platonic. The next morning Kyle awkwardly dressed, and before dashing home on his walk of shame, he gently prodded a groggy Stan, telling him he’d talk to him soon.

A few weeks after they started spending time together, Kyle found out Stan had an on-again, off-again girlfriend, and that he was straight. Yeah, the guy who fucked his ass and sucked his dick was straight; which explained why they never went anywhere together, only staying in Stan’s room. At least the girlfriend went to another school, out of state, so Kyle wouldn’t have to see them walking around campus freely giving each other the affection he was denied.

The last time they saw each other, Stan had practically jumped out of bed and yanked on his shorts, while Kyle sat dumbly, wrapped in a sheet on Stan’s bed. When Stan opened his mouth and refused to meet Kyle’s eyes, he knew some bullshit was coming his way; but he had no idea how much. This was their last time together, apparently. He was getting back together with Wendy and this time, they were going to make it work

He was free falling through the air with only the feeling of his stomach dropping out his ass to orient himself. Everything around Stan blurred and sparked with little bursts of light, and while unable to look him in the eyes, Kyle stared blankly at his tee shirt until Stan finished. They would graduate in nine months, and Stan planned to propose to Wendy, his long-time girlfriend, after they graduated. 

Stan’s face was blank, willfully so, like he was smothering his emotions in order to make it through his speech; his brow creased in concentration while he struggled to keep his voice flat, and the cadence of his sentences seemed out of sync with his words like a bad anime dub. This was a recorded prepared speech, read from an invisible teleprompter, that Stan had to push through out of obligation. Watching as Stan’s eyes stuck to the ground, each time his voice faltered or his eyes clouded, Kyle foolishly hoped that Stan would ditch the act and say, “Fuck it, I want to be with you. I love you.” 

He wasn’t gay. How was that so difficult to understand? They were just fucking around, getting their rocks off. This wasn’t a relationship, sorry if he got the wrong impression. Didn’t Kyle want to find a nice girl? Didn’t he want to spend his days wearing a blazer with those ridiculous patches on the elbows as he lectured a room of students? To come home to his craftsman bungalow with original stained glass windows, and little redheaded children? Yeah, Kyle did want those things, but until that moment, he thought it was possible to have them with the young man in front of him. At least Stan did him the courtesy of ending things right before Thanksgiving break; that gave him eight entire days to feel sorry for himself before classes resumed.

Goddammit. There was that sound again, insistent and measured. Turning over onto his stomach, Kyle growled, “I said ‘later’, go the fuck away.”

But his voice didn’t carry beyond his blankets, and the-_ knocking, it’s knocking _-continued.

“...-n there. Open… Say someth… I_ will. _..off...hinges...try me.”

_Oh great, now the metronome is talking. _

“-yle, please open the door. You don’t even have to talk, we just want to help.”

Kenny.

“We need to know you aren’t hurt_ ngh. _”

Tweek.

Help? The only way they could help would be to put him in a coma so he could forget he ever met Stan Marsh. And maybe take a baseball bat to Stan’s car. He was heartbroken, he felt betrayed and used. Kyle groaned and buried himself deeper into his pile of blankets._ Just let me wither away in here, don’t make me burden you with my brittle husk of a heart. _He was being dramatic, certainly, but he was fucking entitled to it. He deserved to wallow and cry after his secret boyfriend left him after over a year together.

Kyle’s senses began to return, seeing the shadows in his room in the dim moonlight coming through the crack in his windowblinds. It was really stuffy and warm in his little nest and he craved fresh air, but dammit, he didn’t have to do something just because they wanted him to. He’d refused their requests to stage phony performance art, and he’d certainly not gone with them to scour alleys and dumpsters for plastic buckets so they could build Kenny a drum setup like some discount store Questlove; moreover, going along with one of their plans was how he met Stan.

With a defiant huff, Kyle pulled the blankets over his head. Tweek and Kenny continued to knock on his door, but he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed. Sounds of clicking metal snapped the world into focus, and soon after, his roommates barreled in. Kenny jumped onto Kyle’s bed and tossed a mangled paperclip on the nightstand. 

“Dude! The fuck? Do not scare me like that.”

Kyle only gave a weak groan in response.

Feeling Tweek crawl up the bed to settle beside him, he clenched his duvet in his fingers when the other tried to peel the blankets away from his face.

“Come on, Kyle. Come out, at least for a minute, dude.”

So they were playing good cop bad cop. Kyle had known Kenny since kindergarten, he was attuned to all his tricks and persuasion tactics, how his friend could bring down the hammer of tough love or sweetly coax someone into a calm state. Tweek, however, Kyle had only known him for a couple years, and just gotten to know him well over the past year. Though exuberant and strong willed, Tweek showed empathy countless times, but Kyle had never known him to be so gentle.

They both glued themselves to his sides and cuddled him; Kenny pulling Kyle’s head to his shoulder, as Tweek ran his fingers through his curls. His hair felt greasy and knew he was in dire need of a shower, even though he had become desensitized to his own musk by this point; but it was kind of his friends to not run away from his rank ass. 

After a while, Kenny got up, telling Tweek he was ‘initiating phase two’, whatever that meant. Tweek stayed put, and as he pet Kyle’s hair, he began to hum. Kyle didn’t recognize it, but it was pretty; something lilting and gentle, his voice gliding between the intervals. By and by, Tweek’s song gained words, sounding more familiar than before.

“_ ... drives an IRoc…doesn’t give a damn about me… _”

“Tweek are you seriously?” Craning his neck to look at him, Kyle raised an eyebrow, but Tweek just gave his head a pat and continued to sing. 

“_ ...Listen to Iron Maiden, baby, with me. _”

Like a weirdass jukebox, Tweek lulled Kyle into a state of ambivalence with random vocal selections. Sometime during the second verse of “You Can’t Force a Dance Party”, Kenny staggered into the room, arms laden with provisions. Kyle was about to ask what exactly was going on, when Kenny dropped a shower of trail mix, string cheese, peanut butter and turkey jerky on the bed. At least the trail mix was in little serving size bags.

“Surprise, motherfucker! Tonight we eat like non-gender-conforming monarchs!”

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “Dude, you didn’t bring spoons for the peanut butter.”

Kenny shrugged. “Who are you, the pope? This ain’t the Ritz, sweetheart.”

“That doesn’t mean we need to stick our hands in the peanut butter jar like animals.”

Kenny and Tweek then busied themselves with arranging pillows and setting up Kyle’s laptop to binge stream mindless shows and Youtube videos. Neither told him what day it was or how much time had passed while he had locked himself away in his room. Both of his friends fussing over him like he was a sick child. Well, he kinda was._Touche, Friends. Touche. _He wanted to smile, but his face refused the effort, so he instead he let the warm buzz of comfort fill his body.

* * *

The patterns in the ceiling plaster swirled above him in shapes like curls of lamb’s wool, and the scant ridges and peaks created the look of a very boring topographical map. Kyle wasn’t aware of just how long he’d been conscious, but it was long enough that he could discern where each stroke of the trowel ended, and the pattern started over again.

After a fitful few hours sleep, his eyes had cracked open, refusing to slip shut. So he opted to lay in bed and stare up in defiance of his stupid body’s lack of circadian rhythm. However, the longer he layed, the more perturbed he became; and instead of falling into that pleasant sensation of astral projection that comes from dozing, he grew pissed. Angry that he couldn’t even grant himself a full night of rest, angry that he had to face an extended day that promised nothing enriching or edifying.

There was no particular reason for Kyle’s sour mood, his fire was reigniting, but it was wild, unfocused. He could easily focus his indignation on Stan. Fucking Stan. The source of everything bad in his life for the foreseeable future. How many clueless twinks did he have on call? Kyle couldn’t be the only one, he bet Stan had a list of understudies to go to whenever he and Wendy broke up. He probably had a goddamn harem of idiot freshmen waiting in the wings for their turn to take a ride on his (completely average) dick. 

What had he seen in Stan, anyway? Stan never let him top (taking dick was too gay for his taste), and they never went on any sort of date- not even off campus. But Kyle had been damn near obsessed with the guy, never hesitating to run to the guy whenever he texted. Sure, he was boy-next-door handsome, his smile could disarm a locked and loaded Confederate flag waving NRA chapter president, and sometimes Stan would kiss him so very softly...

Stan surrounded himself in mystique. Not as a way to seem brooding and cool, but rather to hide the darkest parts of himself from the world; the things he was too ashamed to acknowledge himself most of the time. It drew Kyle in, stimulating his need to pick Stan’s brain apart in the naive belief that he could extract the bits that caused Stan pain, and then piece him back together with love. Kyle could be that person, he_ wanted _to be that person who encouraged someone through their worst moments and praised them when they made it through. 

No. Just. Fuck right off.

This was bullshit. His Saturday was already fucked at six-fifty AM.

After pulling on a tee shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, Kyle stomped toward the bathroom. Pretending the tube of toothpaste was Stan’s neck, he slathered an inappropriate amount of paste on his brush and went to work on his teeth. The dull swish of the bristles helped cover any surfacing thoughts, however, his eyes traveled to the mirror. He was sure he cringed, but his reflection still held the same blank face. Hazel eyes that seemed too aware and somehow hollow all at once. Dull pallid skin, the usual warm glow and even tone marred by the dark circles under his eyes. Even his freckles had begun to blend in with the blotchiness of his skin. Well, when anyone looked at him, they’d know he was a fucking trainwreck and should stay away. It was about time he got got some sort of incentive from this mess.

A wet ‘plop’ drew Kyle’s attention away from his sickly doppelganger when a glob of foamy toothpaste smacked against the sink bowl. Gagging slightly at the goop dripping off his chin, he considered the task done and quickly rinsed out his mouth. Great. Splendid. Now he had the entire day at his disposal.

Armed with a cup of black coffee, he’d fuse his body with the couch cushions while he stared at the rising sun. He didn’t even like black coffee and usually cut it with milk, something to do with the acidity or tannins, but he’d choke it down. He swallow cup after murky cup of the stuff while he scowled at the world. Kyle was considering whether to ditch the coffee mug or wear oven mitts and hold the whole pot, when he heard metallic clinks coming from the kitchen. 

Tweek was fully dressed, standing in front of the counter and making quiet grunts of displeasure. Several kitchen drawers hung open, their contents littering the countertops and table. He seemed preoccupied, rinsing out the utensil tray and carefully inspecting each item before returning it to a drawer. This could work. Ranting to Tweek usually made Kyle feel better. He listened, didn’t try to fix, and never told him that he was overreacting. Leaning against the entryway to the kitchen, Kyle thumped his forehead against the wall and sighed. He waited for Tweek to acknowledge him, but he didn’t move at all. Tweek must not have heard him. Kyle let out another sigh, louder this time and tinged with a groan. Still no response. Eyes following the movement of Tweek’s hands, Kyle watched as he stared at a candy thermometer. 

Glaring at the object from every angle, Tweek occasionally scratched at it before he resumed scanning each crevice. Organizing his baking supplies wasn’t abnormal for Tweek, but the way he set the thermometer in the drawer, then removed it two seconds later to scrutinize it again, that gave Kyle pause.

“...Fuck, stupidfuckingfuck. Why are you like this? So goddamn selfish, this has nothing to do with you_ rrrgh _.”

Carelessly flinging the thermometer into the drawer, he buried his fingers in his hair, clutching fistfuls as he growled at himself. Okay, maybe he wasn’t the only one who was struggling this morning.

Kyle took a step into the kitchen. Softening his voice, he held up his hands. He really was approaching a squirrel or a rabbit. “Tweek? Are you okay?”

“_Gah! _”

A miasma of tension flooded the kitchen, and Tweek froze like a woodland creature spotted by a predator. As he cautiously turned around, a furious blush bloomed over his pale face and down his neck. While he startled easily, this was a bit much, even for Tweek; he looked like he got caught disposing of a corpse. 

Tweek blinked at him with his large eyes for a moment before his expression relaxed. “_ Ngh _it’s okay. My brain is such a jerk sometimes, ya know?”

“Yeah, I think I do. At least recently, anyway.” Though Kyle wasn’t sure if he could be of any help, he could make an effort at the least. Especially after all the support Tweek had given him lately. “Do you want to talk about it? I can listen.”

“It’s_ nnn- _ My mind. It gets stuck in a surreal mobius strip sometimes. The thoughts repeat over and over, but when I think I know what my subconscious is trying to tell me, the meaning changes and I don’t know what the hell is going on anymore!”

As predicted, this was out of his depth and while Kyle understood to a degree, he couldn’t imagine living with that kind of thing on a regular basis, not just when you’re going through an interlude of utter bullshit. Tweek’s intensity and tenacity, however, he could identify with that completely.

“I’m so sorry, Tweek. I think I understand a little, but that sounds overwhelming and I don’t think it’s at all fair that you have to experience that. I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to help you feel better. Um, hug?” Kyle held out his arms, half in a shrug and half inviting Tweek over. He usually wasn’t the one trying to soothe a friend, but he’d been on the receiving end enough times to start with something that at least brought himself comfort. 

Tweek scrubbed his hands over his face and let out a tired sigh, the weariness of it so sincere that Kyle felt his chest ache in commiseration. 

“Yeah, hug please.” He shuffled into Kyle’s arms, and after a moment, he looped his arms around Kyle’s waist to return the hug.

“You wanna hang out? Sit around and do something dumb to occupy your mind?”

Nodding against Kyle’s chest Tweek murmured, “Mhmm let’s watch shitty tv shows.” He released his arms and looked up at Kyle, managing a hint of his usual impish smile. “You want to watch Real Housewives of Something-Something with me?”

“You’re serious?” Kyle couldn’t help laughing as they made their way to the living room, puzzling over how and why Tweek found those shows appealing.

“Yeah! They’re always mad about something and yelling, i-it’s like vicariously getting your rage out. And you can yell at the screen. It’s fun!”

“Hmm Do they wear tacky outfits like look they were where purchased at a discount store in New Jersey?”

“You know it.”  
  
“Alright, I’m in.”

* * *

Hammering bass drum beats rattled the dash and made thrumming waves through the floor of Tweek’s car. The frantic pace created a sense of urgency, as though the band was barely holding onto the reins as they tumbled toward the harmonic resolution_. _ Kyle tried to listen to the singer growling out lyrics about, demons, hellfire and temptation. Each time Kyle adjusted to a verse, the rhythm section jump-started the foundation by thumping out in double-time. The gravelly voice gave way to a sailing and lyrical melody, accented with delicate arpeggios from the lead guitar. He tried to decipher it all, but it kept running together in a mess of contrasting styles and just fucking_loud_.

“Who’s coming tonight?” Tweek didn’t react, instead continuing to drive down the street and drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “TWEEK!”

“Huh?”

“Who’s coming to the bar tonight?”

He squinted his eyes, as if that would help him hear better. Kyle prayed that he could still see the road. “Um. Me, you, Ken, Heidi, Token, Nichole, Eric...Bebe?”

“Jesus Tweek, can you turn it down a little?”

“Rrrrgh really man?”

“Jesus christ dude, yes!”

Tweek made another of his little verbal tics, and begrudgingly turned the volume down a couple clicks. It was still loud.

“How does that kind of music not stress you out, anyway?”

Tweek didn’t react, he just kept his eyes on the road and his face neutral. “This is what my mind sounds like.” 

There was a manic sparkle in Tweek’s eye, which intensified when it twitched, and the analytic side of Kyle wanted to pull at this thread, but stopped when Tweek opened his mouth. 

“A-and metal is like contemporary classical music, dude. There’s counterpoint, complex harmonic progressions- the guitarists are virtuosic!”

The relentless beats sent vibrations through the seat, and like a convoluted game of telephone, Kyle felt the waves inside his body. The hollowness stayed, but shared the space with the thrums coming from the car stereo; like little pulses of life, determined to revive him. Hollow, but living. For now, that was enough.

Dropping his head to the headrest, he gave Tweek’s knee a pat. “Okay, I’ll give you that.”

A cold, sweating pitcher of Miller Lite thunked onto the middle of the sticky bar table. Tossing a stack of flimsy plastic cups to Kenny, Token gestured to the foamy beer. “Here you go, you bacchanalian heathens. This round’s on me.”

Sidling up to Token, Kenny tittered. “Oh Daddy, you spoil me!”

“If you were my sugar baby, I’d buy you better things than the cheapest beer in the bar. I have standards.”

Kenny fluttered his eyelashes. “Really? Please, do go on.”

“Not like _that_.” Token rolled his eyes, mentally kicking himself for walking right into that trap. “You’re not my type anyway.”

That seemed to be true. Kyle watched as Nichole slipped her arms around one of Token’s and laughed along with Kenny. Concerned about their studies, Token had gone about courting Nichole in a leisurely and sweetly chaste way. It was quite endearing really. In private Nichole admitted that she wasn’t nearly as concerned about ruining her grades with romance because, “Token’s a great guy, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not ditching class to write about him in my diary”. The consensus was that Token was more concerned about dragging down his own grades, rather than both of theirs. Which again, was sweet. Kyle doubted he’d ever find someone who would voluntarily do something that unnecessary and dear for him. That was special.

In the first five years post-college there’d be a slew of weddings to attend; probably Nichole and Token’s, good lord even Cartman and Heidi, and a half dozen others. He’d go to wedding after wedding, be the only single person at the table, spend an embarrassing amount of time picking an outfit and trying to look desirable in the pathetic hope of meeting someone. Or at least finding a one night stand. Weddings were spawning grounds for desperate singles, a veritable buffet of reception halls hazy with pheromones and alcohol from April to August. The next few years promise to be a true delight.

Kyle tried- no he _was _happy for his friends who already found their person, but that had no effect on his self pity. Each committed couple was accompanied by the bittersweet ticking of his biological clock, and the knowledge that there were two fewer people in the dating pool. Kyle was only twenty two, far too young to be so jaded or feel the pressure of remaining single for the rest of his life. It wasn’t that he needed another person to be happy, he unequivocally knew that wasn’t so, but he wanted to share his life with someone. He liked commitment. He looked forward to having a partner who challenged him. Someone who ranted along with him when they agreed, or told him to sit his ass down when he got carried away. 

As most of the group left to go dance, Kyle bristled. Thankfully, Kenny jumped in and offered to stay with him before anyone tried to talk him into joining. Once they left, Kenny went to get them drinks, and grateful as Kyle was, he gave himself another tally in the selfish leech of a friend column. He was relieved when most of the group left for the dancefloor. While he loved their company, he was already growing irritable from all the noise and lack of personal space. 

Eric always said Kyle had no rhythm, but that wasn’t exactly true. Kyle had inhibitions. He’d taken a couple of ballroom dancing classes at the Greater Denver Jewish Community Center in high school, and that he could handle, but improvising while just feeling the rhythm? He had too many self imposed barriers for that. 

“So,_ Kahl_, have any pretty young things caught your eye?” 

Eric joined him at their table, fixing Kyle with an attentive expression. It seemed that not quite everyone had left. “I’m not looking for anyone right now, Eric.”

“Nonsense! What’s your specialty, top, bottom, switch? It would probably help if you switch. It shouldn’t be that hard to woo someone. Your ass is legendary, or so I’ve heard. I wouldn’t know, I’m too straight to even believe that you have an ass. Where’s Heidi? She went to the bathroom like forever ago, I’m seriously.” Whirling around in his seat, he caught sight of Heidi approaching the table. “HEY HEIDS!”

“Yeah, babe? Sorry, there was a crazy line. Why can’t girls just learn to pee standing up? That would make things go so much faster.”

“Question, my dear. Didn’t you say our dear Kahl has a nice ass?”

Her forehead creased in confusion, before brightening in recognition. “What? Oh yeah, totally! O-M-G you should hear what Bebe calls it, she said-”

Kyle held up his hand. This was all too much. And where the hell was Kenny? “That won’t be necessary, thank you Heidi.”

“Oh, alright. Well, I’m gonna go dance. See you boys later.” Heidi seemed concerned about Kyle’s curt tone, but she took the hint that he wanted her to drop it. Turning on the heel of her boot she weaved her way to the parquet dance floor, but before disappearing in the writhing cluster of students, she looked over her shoulder, giving Kyle another unsure look.

“C’mon, there’re plenty of guys to choose from.” Eric slung an arm around Kyle’s shoulder and gestured around the bar. “Let’s see...hmm. Ah, twink, otter, cub- is that what you call them? Uh, twink. Future daddy. Ooh look, the rare gay jock! That would be quite a specimen, eh buddy?”

Kyle choked on his vodka soda. No, Stan couldn’t be here, it was baseball season. Stan didn’t drink in season, and he didn’t tempt himself by going to bars with his friends. _Thank god._ It was just a stocky guy with strawberry blond hair. Definitely not Stan. Misreading Kyle’s reaction as gay panic, Eric thumped him on the back and grinned.

“I’m not in the mood for this game tonight.” He stood up so he could hunt for Kenny, but Eric was committed to his quest.

“Hmm, you’re right. I think he might be half ginger and I can’t allow such an unholy union.”

“Dude, stop. I’m not doing this-” 

Eric leaned more of his weight into Kyle, swaying on his feet. His breath was pure whiskey and he seemed pretty far gone. “Kyahl, bro, you don’t have to always be chaste and pure. Just go for it, no one’s judging you! You need a rebound, and I’m just trying to hook my Jewbae up.”

Shoving Eric away, Kyle rounded on him. His anger was flaming again, and he would not stand here and be mocked by a friend. Eric didn’t need to tell him he was a slut. Kyle was well aware of that after every time he threw himself at Stan after he had a fight with his girlfriend. 

Kyle jabbed his finger into Eric’s chest. “I’m not in the fucking mood for your shit, Eric. Shut up_ right now _or I’m gonna smash your goddamn teeth in.”

“Sorry that took forever, Ky. I guess bartenders ignore customers who only want water. What. The hell is going on?”

Looking over Eric’s shoulder, Kyle saw that Kenny had finally returned with two cups of water. Taking a step back he glared at Eric, hoping to appeal to Kenny’s sympathy. “He was antagonizing me, like he always does, because it’s just_ hilarious _that I got dumped by a straight guy after being his mistress for over a year!”

“I wasn’t! Kenny, you have to believe me, I was trying to help. He’s so depressed and moody, I thought a tasty snacc would make him feel better. Kenny.” His eyes were shiny as he looked between Kyle and Kenny, fluctuating between pleading and confusion.

“I believe you Eric. And I believe that you’re super drunk.” Kenny turned to Kyle, his face set and oddly blank. “You, take your ass outside, we’re going home. I’ll tell Tweek to stay at the girls’ place tonight, meet you outside in a minute.”

“C’mon Eric, let go find Heidi. Kyle must be on his period. I’ll take him home and make sure he takes his Midol.” Wrapping his arm around Eric’s waist, Kenny steered him to the dance floor, using Eric’s broad frame to shoo people aside.

Scoffing, Kyle stalked to the exit, ignoring the angry shout of the doorman as he kicked the door open with his foot.

“Okay, what the hell was all that about.” Kenny’s hands were tight around the steering wheel. He hadn’t spoken until now, and Kyle had hoped it would stay that way.

Kyle pouted beside him in the passenger seat with his arms crossed, and his forehead against the side window. While he battled against his pride to answer Kenny, they hit a pothole. Kyle made a whiny groan as his head smacked against the glass. He wondered if Kenny did that on purpose. “Fine. I may have been a bit...dramatic.”

“Hmm you don’t say.” Several moments of silence. “You know you need to apologize to Eric, right?”

“Ugh. Yes.” 

“I mean, he gets pretty sappy and clingy when he’s had a few. I think you actually hurt his feelings this time, dude.”

“Fuck. Alright, I’ll text him before I go to bed tonight.” Kyle squirmed in his seat as Kenny gave him the side eye. “And I’ll stop by tomorrow morning with some of those ridiculous donuts he likes.”

“That’s more like it. I was afraid I’d have to call Auntie Sheila and have her set you straight.”

“Please don’t joke about that, Ken.”

“Who says I was joking, bucko?”

Kenny watched in horrified fascination as Kyle draped himself over the back of the couch, gesturing wildly with his hands. He’d been going for thirty minutes nonstop since they got home, and didn't appear close to being finished with his semi-coherent his rant.

“He’s just such a fucking asshole, you know?” Kyle pushed himself off the couch and started to pace around the living room, sharply turning on his heels as he neared the wall before he continued in the opposite direction. “For a year, and entire_ year _he acted like I meant something to him! But it was all just for a cheap fuck.”

The anger hadn’t faded during Kyle’s tirade, instead stoking his fire to near catastrophic levels. Kenny wondered if he needed to check his blood sugar.

“Ky, you’re going to give yourself heart failure.”

Kenny’s voice didn’t even reach Kyle’s ears. He was on a roll, fueled by a year of unresolved feelings, and he had to get out this poison before it started to rot his heart from the inside out. It was so easy to blame Stan in the beginning, but now, Kyle had a clearer view, and it was obvious that he himself had doomed their chances from the beginning. Flopping onto the couch, Kyle sprawled across the cushions, waving his arms at the ceiling.

Kyle analyzed his few relationships of the past; four months, one year and two months, nine months. In barely one year, he could wear someone down to the point where his mere presence brought bitter misery. But he and Stan had started something that wasn’t supposed to fade, to instead shine brighter with age. Kyle was to patiently wait while his love nurtured Stan, and bide his time until Stan had his revelation, where Kyle would laugh and say, “What took you so long?” Instead, Kyle was left standing with outstretched arms, holding a wrapped gift that he couldn’t return.

“I don’t know. Maybe I smothered him? I mean, it’s not like I acted like I was his boyfriend… even if I wanted to. I never know when to stop. I just keep pushing and pushing, because I expect too much from everyone. Of course he’d get tired of me, who wouldn’t find that tedious? God, if I just reigned it in… I break people; I keep prodding them more and more until I get what I want. And by then they resent me. God why do I keep doing that? I’m fucking going to die alone. 

“I’m such an idiot for going that long without ever asking him what the hell we were doing. Who does that? I had doubts, I saw red flags, but just ignored it because I didn’t want to be alone. God, I could’ve stopped it after a little while and at least been friends with him. He has some major internalized homophobia, but I could’ve helped him to see past it, right? Who am I kidding, I probably would just have tried to fuck him as soon as he showed any sign of improvement. But, nooo, I wasted an_ entire year _of my life-”

Kenny held out his hand, reaching to place it on Kyle’s arm. “You didn’t waste-”

“Of course I did!“ Kyle snarled at Kenny, completely missing how he flinched as he pulled his hand away. “How many times did I cancel plans because he asked me to come over? Or sit around doing jack shit on the slightest chance he’d want company? I could have dated someone. Someone who I could actually be with-_ Huuughh! _”

“_ Kyle. _ ” Kenny sat himself on top of Kyle’s prone body and gave him a death stare that he definitely learned from Sheila. “_Breathe_.”

A few stuttering breaths were enough to make Kyle realize how hard his heart was racing, practically pounding against his ribcage. “It...it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“I know dude. I know.”

“I-I didn’t even tell him I loved him until the end. Maybe it would’ve made a difference.” 

“Ky, worrying about alternate futures won’t help you any. It happened, it’s in the past, it’s time to take care of yourself now.” 

“I think I forgot how to.” Kyle folded his arms over his face in defeat. It was mortifying to be so weak and useless. 

“And that’s okay. I got you dude.”

“But, I don’t want- no I_ can’t _let myself fall for someone who can’t return my feelings, I just can’t deal with that again. It isn’t worth risking my sanity for a couple months of happiness, I’m not going to keep giving myself away, just to do it over and over again like some disappointing sisyphusian Groundhog Day bullshit. Is sisyphusian even a word? Sisyphean? Goddammit, I’m losing my fucking mind.”

“I don’t know if there’s an answer, and if there is, you probably need a fair amount of distance to see it. Maybe next time will be different, but you can’t expect someone else to be responsible for your happiness. That’s up to you.”

“Tell me it gets better.” 

“It gets better, babe.” 

“Thanks. I don’t believe it yet, but thanks dude.” Kyle enjoyed the quiet for a bit, listening to the furnace blow warm air around and shut off. He felt calm, or rather, drained. Whether it came from exhaustion or peace, he didn’t give a fuck. He was enjoying the hell out of it. “Hey, do you remember that game we used to play with Karen and Ike? Where we’d write letters on someones back with your fingers and the person has to guess what word you’re writing?” 

“Yeah. Kare liked to spell cookie when she was little.”

“Best of five wins?”

“Heck yes, you’re on.”

“Alright dude, last time. You get one more guess before you have to admit defeat.”

“Admit defeat? I would never.”

“That’s the Kyle I know! Good boy.” Scooting forward, Kenny wrapped Kyle in a bear hug and rocked him side to side.

“Ugh. Kenny, you can’t call me that. It does _things_.”

“What? I shouldn’t call you a_ good boy _?”

“Stop. Don’t get so close, I don’t want you to feel my half-boner.”

“Shh shh shh. Relax, whatever happens, happens.”

He allowed Kenny to cuddle him a few more seconds before he wiggled out of his grip. “Okay, okay. Last round. Spell some words.”

Kyle closed his eyes as Kenny swept the pad of his index finger over his back, attempting to ride the line between concentrating way too hard and just relying on Jedi-like intuition._ Eat grass? _ No, that didn’t really make sense. _ Princess? _ Fitting for Kenny, but that would be too obvious. He almost had it but… _ Wait. _ He looked over his shoulder at Kenny, who was biting his cheek, trying to hold back a smirk. Kyle’s eyes narrowed. “_Nice ass_. Really?”

Kenny rolled onto his side, cackling with glee. After a minute, his laughter tapered off. He looked up at Kyle while wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well, that’s progress.”

* * *

Stinging. Rimming his eyes and down his cheeks. The taste of salt dripped down the curve of his lip onto his tongue, leaving the skin chapped and puffy. The bedding wound around him, tangled and knotted in his arms, not covering his body, but instead clutched to his chest. How long had he laid here? Unknown. The only light was the moon shining through the window blinds, but it may have been dark when he laid down; it’s not as though he assessed his surroundings when he slithered into bed. 

When he left the living room earlier, the only thing in his awareness was the stilted sob that cracked through his lips. Kyle rose from the couch, ignoring the heavy textbook that dropped to the carpet in a heap of bent pages as he walked to his room. The air was too heavy, it flooded his lungs like brackish sludge, but at the same time, he was floating. Everything surrounding him was dull and dark, and the only source of light seemed to be the fuzzy bursts of light that sparked at the edge of his vision. 

His eyes started leaking at some point after he laid down, dampening his pillow and clogging his sinuses. What a loathsome cycle. Floating between being a lobotomized shell, to manic thoughts and hypersensitivity, then feeling almost normal, which quickly bottomed out with despair and loathing. Only to have a scant few minutes to exist without misery before losing himself again. 

This degenerative pattern could only go on for so long before he had an aneurysm, right? The somatic system was fallible and surely, this was temporary. Though temporary could mean almost anything. How long since all this bullshit started? Days, months, years. Fuck temporary. That useless word didn’t deserve to be included in the English language.

Normally, Kyle despised being a gross mouth-breather, but he had left his pride and dignity wrapped in Stan’s bedsheets over two months ago. This was all his own damn fault anyway. If he had talked to Stan like an adult back when he started to have feelings for him, been open and honest, he wouldn’t have put himself through months of anxiety and heartbreak. Or at the very least handled the situation with some level of grace and humility; following the advice of some vapid platitudes and keep his chin up, or think about the other gay fish in the sea. No, Kyle handled this with his trademark flair, running the spectrum of emotion like a method actor training for the role of Scarlet O’Hara. This spitfire of a Jewish princess could give any thespian a run for their proverbial money.

“-le?”

As Kyle heard Tweek’s tentative footsteps near his bed, he wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand. Now dry, the salt-stained skin stung as much as his eyes did. Hooray for consistency.

“Kyle?” 

Tweek’s shadow. 

“Ohhh.” 

Perching on the edge of the bed, Tweek began to rub his palm over Kyle’s back in smooth, practiced motions. Several months ago when Kyle’s embarrassing breakdowns began, Tweek had been so timid and unsure about touching him; often asking for permission or administering hesitant pats. That was until Kenny had so poetically instructed, “Nah, you gotta pet him like your favorite mutt; so he can_ feel _it.” Kenny then combed his fingers through Kyle’s hair with enough force to pull his eyebrows nearly to his hairline. Thankfully, Tweek took the advice with a grain of salt.

“Um_ ngh _Kenny’s not here, he’s on the late shift tonight. He should be back sometime after eleven.”

Tweek answered the question that was poised on the tip of his tongue. Kenny. He knew Kyle would look for Kenny. Not that there was anything wrong with Tweek, it was just that, if he had to pick one person in the world, it would be Ken. Though, he had grown more and more fond of having both of them there with him. Maybe that was selfish to want two people to comfort him, but that was his way. He bled people dry, continually asking more of them until they had nothing to offer except resentment or pity. Though Tweek was here by his own choice. Kyle didn’t understand why Tweek still tolerated him, but he sure as hell appreciated it. 

“Do you um, want me to lay down with you?” Tweek gestured to the bed.

Nodding, Kyle held out a hand to steady Tweek as he climbed over and settled behind him. It was amazing what contact did to soothe and settle the nerves, and as much as evolution had done and science attempted, animal instincts still controlled so much in life. Babies and small children easily calm in the arms of a caregiver, so why try to override the most basic instincts? Especially when they’re useful.

Laying there with tired, itchy eyes, Kyle watched the rise and fall of Tweek’s chest, following the path of the air as it entered and then expelled from his lungs. Tweek’s nostrils flared slightly as he inhaled, and his long fingers bobbed with the movement of his chest. Accompanied by the occasional twitch. Kyle thought about his own body. Was he breathing? He wasn’t even sure. He felt completely still, he couldn’t feel his chest move, or his pulse thrum in his ears. Yet he was living, not alive_ per se, _ but he existed. 

“Did you know that humans and other primates can recognize immediate family members from pheromones alone? It’s not 100% human-created societal rules that dissuade incest, since our sense of smell also perceives it.” 

The pillow moved as Tweek lightly shook his head. “Huh-uh. I didn’t, but that’s pretty cool. And a little creepy.”

“There’s debate as to whether detection of the pheromones actually discourages intimate behavior, or if it only bolsters our constructs of what we consider appropriate, so yeah...” Fuck, he’d just been rambling nonsense, when Tweek had come to find him for a reason. Kyle cleared his throat. “Were you going to ask me something when you came in?”

Tweek turned onto his side, rooting his nose under Kyle’s shoulder. “Was going to do some dark web dungeoning, wanted to see if you’re interested.”

“So you really do this on a regular basis, talk to people about all this?” Kyle gestured at Tweek’s laptop. He stared at the screen, raising an eyebrow at the animated discussion Tweek had jumped into. They all seemed to know each other, which surprised Kyle more than it should have. Of course Tweek would be invested, he approached everything with zeal.

“Yes? You can learn a lot from people, e-even if you don’t agree with them! And being on these forums really helped with my philosophy classes.”

That made sense, actually. Tweek was always questioning the nature of ethics and the government, or metaphysical concept. “Jesus dude, why didn’t you major in philosophy? That seems perfect for you.”

“_ Gah! _ No way! I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking like _ ever _ , and I’d never leave the house, man! My fingernails would be all _ fffhew-oooosh_, and curly! I’d do stuff like make my own yogurt and hoard jars of pickled beets and _oh god _ I don’t want anything to do with Ayn Rand!”

Kyle reached out to take one of Tweek’s flailing hands. He was doing his best not to laugh, but there was something so earnest and pure about his rant that Kyle couldn’t keep a straight face. “Okay okay, I get it Tweek. I like you the way you are. And I don’t think I could handle your nails.”

“W-well, I mean_ geh _ they’d be clean.I’d spend like a-at least two hours a day scrubbing them with a toothbrush.”

“I’m not sure if that helps or hinders your argument.”

Kyle followed Tweek through a chain of forums and chats, and while he often scoffed at what he read, he was compelled to keep diving deeper. The things people believed! Concepts that Kyle neve even considered, but pulled his fragmented ideas into alignment. As Kyle’s interested grew, Tweek scooted over to give him control of the computer. It felt like an important moment, like being handed the keys to a sports car by a proud parent. They fell down the rabbit hole deeper and deeper with each click, leaning closer to the laptop screen without realizing it. 

“How did we get from the FDA tampering with the vitamin fortifications in milk, to the melting point of steel, and how it proves that 9/11 was was an international coverup?”

Tweek shook his head. “This got too real.”

“Yeah it did. Clear the browser history?”

“Not enough. Gotta reformat the hard drive, then destroy it. Can you get a hammer from the toolkit?” 

Ky gave him a solemn nod and climbed out of bed. As he made his way to the utility closet, Tweek called after him.

“The twenty ounce hammer, please!”

Kyle nudged at the bits of plastic and metal with the toe of his sneaker. Tweek’s hard drive was thoroughly smashed. “It would be more satisfying if we had something bigger to beat the crap out of. Not that this wasn’t fun.”

Chuckling, Tweek pulled a pack of American Spirits from his jeans, watching as he fished a cigarette and lighter from the sky blue box and lit up. His cheeks hollowed out as the cherry flared to life, and while he blew a sharp string of smoke through his lips, he lifted an eyebrow at Kyle. “We could go to the thrift store, find something old, useless, and capable of making a satisfying crunch.”

“Yeah, maybe. I don’t know if I should encourage that kind of behavior or not.” Kyle shook his head and laughed to himself. He imagined visiting a thrift store and leaving with an ancient printer or tube television. “I forgot that you smoked.”

“I only do it once or twice a week. Good thing they made smoking in bars illegal, I’d be totally screwed. There’s something incredibly gratifying about having a cigarette with a cheap beer.”

“It’s the working man’s cigar and brandy, I guess?”

Tweek hummed. “I’m not nearly refined enough for that. And those huge brandy glasses are way too much! I’d like drop it immediately a-and all the fancy business men would drop their monocles in shock and the floor would be covered in glass and they’d make me clean it up with my teeth to teach me a lesson!”

Caught up in the devolvement of Tweek’s thought process, it took Kyle a moment to realize he should probably distract him. “Hey, gimme one of those.”

“Have you ever smoked before?” Though looking skeptical, he handed Kyle one.

As a reply, Kyle took the proffered cigarette and lit it. Holding Tweek’s amused stare, Kyle tried to smirk around the filter as he inhaled.

“Not your first rodeo I see.”

Laughing through his exhale, Kyle shook his head. “God, the last time was spring semester of sophomore year. I’m astonished that I didn’t barf up a lung.”

“Well, you certainly pulled it off.” Leaning over, he nudged Kyle with his shoulder. “Looks like the sweet one’s got a bit of an edge. Like a ginger Paul Newman.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone has said to me, ever.” It was a non-sequitur supreme, but was also oddly fitting, Kyle thought. At least his body thought so, because his cheeks positively burned.

They sat quietly while finishing their smokes, wordlessly flicking bits of hard drive into the parking lot and listening to the crickets chirp.

“Gasp! Did my boys come to wait for me to return home from the war?”

Kyle looked up to see Kenny getting out of his car. “Hey, Ken. How was work?”

“Some drunk girl peed in the stairwell. You know, the one by the back exit of the store? She walked past the restroom, opened the door to the stairwell, took a squat and peed on the floor. But, enough of that. So uh, what are you guys up to?”

Tweek started snickering as Kenny tapped his foot on the hammer that sat between he and Kyle. “Data management.”

“‘Kay. That sounds...neat.” Suddenly, Kenny turned back to car. “Forgot something!” Trotting back over with a plastic grocery sack in tow, he held it in front of him like a holy relic. “Who wants cookie dough ice cream? Don’t worry, it’s sugar-free, because my little bubbeleh is already sweet enough.”

Stretching his arms over his head, Kenny let out a roaring yawn. “Well, I am plum tuckered out. I’ma head off to bed, if that’s alright with you guys.” 

Kyle stood up beside him and reached to take Kenny’s bowl. “We’ll take care of the ice cream dishes. You worked all day, it’s the least we can do.”

“Well, who am I to refuse? Alright babes, see you in the morning for another thrilling day.”

“Night Ken, thanks for the ice cream.”

Passing by Kyle, Tweek stepped into the kitchen and turned the faucet on. “I’ll wash, you dry, ‘kay?”

Kyle shifted back and forth on his feet as he folded his damp dish towel for the second time. There was no reason to feel awkward, but he couldn’t shake it away. “Tweek? Can you um, stay with me? To sleep?”

“Yeah man. Of course.” 

With a soft smile, Tweek nodded and headed toward Kyle’s room. Letting out a relieved breath, Kyle followed behind. If only his heartbeat would slow down.

He vaguely felt the comforter and blankets on top of him, but aside from that, he was floating, suspended and weightless. This was the most relaxed Kyle had felt in months, and dear god, how he had missed it. Rolling onto his side, he snuck a look at Tweek. He wasn’t fidgeting or spasming, seemingly just as calm as Kyle. 

Continuing to watch Tweek live in calm serenity, Kyle felt jealous; he wondered if he could absorb some of that life force for himself. But he’d already asked so much of Tweek lately, tonight even. Asking for help was one of his biggest weaknesses. This entire breakup experience had become one giant lesson in humility. He took a deep breath and tried to tamp down his pride. “Can I, um. Like. Can I put my head on you?”

Without answering, Tweek shimmied a little higher on the bed and guided Kyle’s cheek to his chest. Sifting his fingers through the curls, he cooed, “Like this?”

Nuzzling closer, Ky draped his arm over Tweek’s stomach. “Perfect.”

* * *

Four months. It had been four months since Kyle imploded. His depressive episodes became less frequent, and when they did creep in they were mild in comparison and he managed to handle things on his own. Working through panic attacks and forcing himself to shower and go to class when he was so morose he could hardly move weren’t skills he thought he would acquire during college. At least he was more prepared for the next crisis that came up. Silver linings and whatnot.

Relying less on Kenny and Tweek to take care of him, Kyle was able to just enjoy their company instead of leeching their vitality. School wasn’t easier, he was still disinterested in going to class and put off his assignments as late as he could, but not because he was in a miserable lump in his bed. No, this was just a classic case of Senioritis. The sociology program had already accepted him into their graduate program, and these were his last few months to be a man-baby before becoming slightly more adult. Why spend these precious few moments on assignments when there were three a.m. water balloon fights and hangover pancakes? 

Dreamy darkwave music drifted past Tweek’s open door, sending ambient thrums through the floorboards and the doorframe. Kyle nudged the door open further and rapped his knuckles against it. 

“Hey dude, what are you up to?” 

Seeing one of Tweek’s hands through the opening, Kyle pushed the door open, but the gears in his brain came to a screeching halt as he got a full view of his friend. 

Arms stretched along the ground, his palms planted, while he folded the lower half of his body over his head. Hips balanced over shoulders, his legs extended down at a forty five degree angle with his toes brushing the ground. Ass in full view and clad in small lycra shorts. At the perfect height, that if Kyle stood in front of him...

No, this was not fucking happening.

He didn’t ask for this. He only wanted to invite Tweek to go on a hike at the park. Loneliness, that’s all it was. Kyle missed the affection of another person, he was alone and horny. No subtext. Plain and simple. 

Tweek tilted his head to look at Kyle. “Yoga. This is plow position.”

_ JesusfuckingChrist ‘plow’ sure is an apt name. _Though it probably wasn’t named for the reason he was imagining. If Tweek was embarrassed in any way, it didn’t show, but perhaps he was choosing not to acknowledge it to avoid making things awkward. Or maybe he was oblivious. Tweek seemed to ride a pendulum swing from paranoid hyper alertness to spacey free spirit. 

Kyle snapped his eyes to the side, devoting his attention to the adjacent wall and pretended to study a canvas sheet Tweek and Kenny had painted with their feet. Fuck_ . _ Was he attracted to Tweek? Objectively speaking, Kyle had always found Tweek attractive; handsome face, cute ass, a disheveled and playful look. However, acknowledging a beautiful person, and being _ interested _in that person were completely different concepts. 

He cleared his throat. “Oh. Cool. Do you um, want to go on a hike?”

“Sure, man. Give me about 20 minutes?”

“Yep. Okay. Sounds good. I’ll leave you to it.”

Kyle hauled ass back to his own bedroom and shut the door. His mind (and his hormones) had been calm for the first time in a week, so an impromptu trip to the park sounded like a nice reward; keep the endorphins flowing, get some vitamin D and whatnot. But no, he couldn’t catch a fucking break. God, that had been an embarrassing development, having his brain and body overloaded with sexual urges for days at a time, even about things he’d never even thought of doing before. Hypersexual. It was a normal occurrence when going to major mood swings or bouts of depression and anxiety; he only knew it was normal because he googled it, but he had been sure there was definitely something wrong with him. Apparently he wasn’t broken, but fucking fuck, he disgusted himself. Yeah, he needed vitamin D alright.

Every time he managed to steer his thoughts in a more productive direction, only several minutes would pass until his brain offered up something along the lines of,_ Wow, you know what would be really cool? Getting spit roasted while being called a whore. Getting smacked around a little, too. A-and like cum, everywhere. _Yeah thanks brain, he’d get right on that. Constantly getting your dick wet sounded like a super healthy way to work through depression. Most nights, he’d wake up, hard as granite and already wet. Sometimes in the morning as well. Driving to class, sitting in class, doing homework; he was never safe from intrusive thoughts and unwanted hard ons. If this continued, he’d spend a fortune on lube and still end up with a chafed dick.

If the obsessive fantasies started to involve a blond yoga enthusiast who slept in the bedroom adjacent to his…bending and stretching. Making little noises. A sheen of sweat glowing on his flushed skin. Just put him out of his misery now. He was a shit friend for thinking of Tweek like that, and just because Tweek had been so supportive and they’d become such good friends, didn’t entitle him to mentally manhandle the guy. He didn’t think about Kenny that way, why should Tweek be any different? They were like brothers to Kyle. Well, Kenny definitely was...but Tweek was different._ Yeah, he’s different; your dick’s interested in him, you pervert. _

Flopping onto his bed, Kyle let out a frustrated scream into his pillow. Maybe if banged his head against the wall hard enough, he’d forget who he was.

* * *

Kyle’s eye twitched. Weird sounds like plastic clacking together and cabinet doors closing rang down the hallway, drawing an annoyed sigh from Kyle. Turning his eyes from a worn copy of “The Architecture of Happiness”, he stared at the ceiling and forced himself to take several slow breaths._ Okay. Be rational, use reason. _Tweek wasn’t trying to be obnoxious, he was absorbed in whatever project that had captured his attention. He was passionate, creative. He couldn’t help that he had ADHD and clinical anxiety, and tended to fixate on things. Granted, Tweek had a poor concept of volume and what was considered appropriate for shared spaces even when he felt balanced, but this was so excessive, how could he not realize how loud he was?

“What the hell are you doing, Tweek?”

“_ Rrrgh _don’t worry about it!”

His voice was oddly muffled, but had an inexplicable echo to it. Maybe he’d finally stumbled into one of those parallel dimensions he so firmly believed in, floating around as a disembodied apparition like little Carol Anne from Poltergeist.

“You do realize saying that only makes me worry more, right?”

“No?”

Kyle thumped the book against his face._ I swear to Abraham, if he does something that keeps us from getting our security deposit back… _

_ Knock knock knock. _

“Can you_ ngh _get that? I’m kind of busy!”

Slipping his thumb between the pages he was currently engrossed in, Kyle hauled himself from his comfy reading nest and headed to the front door. “If it’s Mormon missionaries, you owe me big time.”

“Uh-huh right, sure, sure.”

Despite the strong urge to scowl and tell whoever it was to fuck off and just let him read his book for christssake, Kyle plastered on a polite smile, because Sheila Broflovski raised her son to be a_ nice, polite boy. _ To his relief, it was Craig Tucker, the antithesis of a Mormon missionary. 

“Hey Craig! Come in.” Kyle stepped to the side to let Craig into the living room. “Tweek’s doing… I honestly have no idea, but whatever it is, it’s loud. I guess he’ll be out a minute?”

“I’d expect no less. So…um. Are you going anywhere over spring break?”

“Oh, Yeah. For a few days at least. Ma would hunt me down if I didn’t go back for Seder.”

“Oh, so you don’t have to go home until like Monday or Tuesday?”

“Yeah, Seder’s the second night of Passover. When are you guys going home?” 

“Sunday morning. We conveniently roll up when my family’s getting home from mass. It makes Tricia so mad, it’s awesome.”

Kyle opened his mouth to ask Craig if Tweek even went to his own parents’ house on holidays, but in addition to conjuring inappropriate images, he could also summon the guy. 

“IS THAT CRAIG?”

Craig hitched his backpack higher on his shoulder and rolled his eyes at Tweek’s disembodied voice. “No. It’s Tom Holland. I’ve come to claim you as my sugar baby, so get that twink ass out here.”

“Fuck you, I’m not a_ rrrgh _twink! Bring your stuff in here, asshat. The couch can’t contain your noodle legs, so I’m giving you my room.”

“My very own bed? My my, aren’t we putting on airs.”

As Craig rounded the corner, making his way down the hall to Tweek’s room, Klye settled back into the couch. Returning to his book, Kyle tucked his bookmark behind the title page and resumed reading._ “It is perhaps when our lives are at their most problematic that we are likely to be most receptive to beautiful things-” _

BANG

“Gyahhh!!!” 

Thud-thud-thud

“_ Oww _Goddammit, Tweek!”

“SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER!”

Thwip thwip thwip-thwip-thwip

“YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

A burst of little foam darts ricocheted off the door of the utility closet as Craig and Tweek made unintelligible shouts from down the hall. Then came what sounded like a scuffle, followed by stomping feet and a grunt. Kyle watched one of the bright yellow darts roll to a stop against the leg of the coffee table and soon after, Tweek came skidding into the living room. Armed with a plastic rifle, he ran through the room, bound for the front door. 

Flying past Kyle, Tweek screeched, “Out of ammo! I’m redlining!” before shoving the weapon into Kyle’s arms. He spared a glance behind himself, and catching sight of a scowling Craig stalking toward him, he let out a squeak and bolted out the door.

Craig followed him onto the porch, and after taking a few moments to watch Tweek weave between the cars, he closed the door and flicked the deadbolt in place. “And we never heard from him again.”

Kyle snorted under his breath. “Well, that’ll give us a few minutes of peace before Kenny gets back.”

“Oh. Kenny didn’t go home for break?” Craig turned toward Kyle so slowly he thought he heard his neck creaking. “I didn’t see his car out there, so I thought he like, went home already or um whatever.”

_ Why does he know what kind of car Kenny drives? _Kyle had never heard Craig stumble over his words like that either. Interesting. Though Craig’s tanned skin tone didn’t exactly support a traditional blush, there was something going on there. He put a mental bookmark in that curiosity for later study.

“He avoids it whenever possible, and when he does, he stays with his older brother. But I think he has to go back for his sister’s band concert tomorrow.” Getting the feeling that he should steer the conversation away from Kenny, Kyle opted to backtrack. “So where did Tweek hide this time?”

“Little fucker was in the attic crawlspace. When I went into his room, he dropped the ladder and started shooting Nerf darts at me.” 

“So that’s what all the noise was? That explains several things, actually.”

“I thought he was afraid of the attic. Or is it the shower ghost?”

“It’s both, actually. I bet it’s those energy drinks he kept chugging during midterms; Kenny hid them, but Tweek still managed to find them. He’s been in rare form this week.”

“Yeah. I think his pupils were different sizes.” 

The doorknob rattled in its socket, making both boys look up. After a few metallic clanks and a thud, a booted foot popped through the doorway, sending the door flying open. With a huff, Kenny stepped over the threshold, carrying several pizza boxes in his arms.

“The bitch is back, and she brought pizza!”

Tweek came trotting after him, already enjoying a slice of mushroom and sausage, like he’d been out with Kenny to pick up the pizza instead of running barefoot in the parking lot. Reaching over Kenny’s shoulder, he held the piece of pizza in front of him. Kenny growled and took a healthy bite.

“Hey, why was the door locked? I almost dropped the precious cargo trying to get in!”

Keeping a deadpan expression as only he could, Craig offered, “There was a rabid animal outside, we feared for our safety. Hey, cut it out!” 

Kyle watched as Craig swatted at the air, trying to dodge chunks of pizza crust Tweek threw at him. Craig patiently waited for Tweek to run out of dough before gathering the pieces up and chucking them at him all at once. Within seconds, it evolved into a game of trying to toss crust into each others mouths. It was sweetly asinine how the two could go from chasing and throwing stuff at each other, bickering like an old married couple, then hugging. He wondered if that’s how he and Kenny looked to them.

They each took a seat around the coffee table while Kyle gathered utensils and napkins in the kitchen. At the metallic clunk on the tabletop, Craig raised an eyebrow. 

“Um Kyle, were you going to eat pizza with a knife and fork?”

“No. It’s uh, just a reflex to pick up silverware, you know?” Kenny snorted into his can of Mountain Dew, and Kyle pinched his leg. “Mind your table manners,_ Princess _.”

Kyle picked up a slice, frowning mildly as the tip of the triangle drooped under the weight of thick crust and and an unreasonable amount of cheese. This was exactly why he preferred to use utensils, there was no need to get messy or look undignified, when there were more civilized options available. He sighed before making a tripod of sorts with his fingers and gingerly took a bite.

Giving in to his hunger, Kyle relaxed in favor of eating his damn dinner and talking to friends. When he began to think he was in the clear, he noticed Tweek staring at him. This wasn’t the impish smirk he had when he was scheming, or mulling over a snarky comeback. It was… fond? His jade eyes were focused and bright, and his smile grew as Kyle dabbed at his face with a napkin. He looked like he’d just been given a precious gift. 

“What? There’s something on my face, isn’t there?” 

His mother was right, pizza was not an appropriate meal for company above the age of twelve. Kyle lurched across the table to snatch some extra napkins, ignoring the way Craig made a grab for his toppling soda. 

Biting back a smile, Tweek shook his head. “Huh-uh. Not at all, I promise.”

* * *

“Yes, I’ll concede that the Loch Ness monster has physical similarities to the Plesiosaur, which was an aquatic reptile; however, scientists have proved that the temperatures of Loch Ness are entirely too frigid for a cold-blooded reptile to survive, let alone for centuries. Warm-blooded mammals, such as whales and six species of seals, are indigenous to Antarctica. Moreover, these mammals adapted their life cycles to the ice that often covers the surface of arctic waters, much like the ice that covers Loch Ness during winter.”

“Okay, that’s time, Broflovski. Tweek, thirty seconds for your concluding statement. Starting… Now.”

Tweek cleared his throat. “If related to the Plesiosaurus, the Loch Ness monster and her ancestors had millions of years, since the Jurassic period, to adapt and evolve to live comfortably in the Scottish climate. Perhaps Nessie’s unique characteristics are a result of punctuated equilibrium, a reptilian genetic wildcard able to adapt in ways we haven’t yet discovered. But, most importantly, does she have nipples? No visual evidence, witness accounts, or folklore has yet to confirm that Nessie has mammary glands; a requirement for mammalian life-” 

Kyle’s eye twitched at the way Tweek shot him a haughty look and leaned on the word_ Nessie _, all because Kyle wouldn’t refer to a cryptid by its proper name. “That’s a gross exaggeration of biological theory, not basis of legitimate-” 

Craig held up a hand to silence him. “You had your turn, let him finish.” 

Flopping down in his chair with a huff, Kyle crossed his arms.

“ _ Ahem _ as I was saying. In conclusion... EAT MY ASS, GINGER BITCH!”

Kyle’s jaw dropped as Tweek stood up on the couch and began jumping on the cushions. Nonplussed in part at the way Tweek called him a ‘ginger bitch’, instructed him to eat his ass, and because he’d just paid off that freaking couch two months ago.

Indifferent to Tweek’s antics, Craig turned to their judge. “Alright, Kenny. Have you finished tallying your scores? Is the Loch Ness monster a reptile or mammal?”

“I have. And while Tweek’s arguments weren’t as strong as Kyle’s, his concluding statement was quite compelling.”

“Are you kidding? There’s no way that should be included in score calculations, if anything, it should disqualify him! Right?” Kyle turned to Craig for support.

“Hmm… no, it’s fair game,” Craig shrugged

“What? This is ridiculous. You aren’t an impartial moderator, you’re totally biased toward Tweek!”

Craig made one of his goofy nasal laughs. “No I’m not. I’m the first one to tell him when he’s being a dick.”

“And Kenny, this isn’t Top Chef, you don’t have to give a speech. Just fucking tell us.”

Kenny made a show of erasing and scratching his pencil on his notepad. “Well, after that outburst, I need to do a little adjusting.”

Tweek groaned. “Kyle, oh my god, stop talking.”

“As exciting and educating as this debate has been, I’ve reached a conclusion.” Kenny paused for dramatic effect, but continued when all three guys sighed. “Fine, fine. This winner is, neither of you. It’s a tie. Well, unless one of you concedes.”

Tweek stretched his legs along the sofa cushions and laced his fingers behind his head. He smirked up at Kyle. “_ Ngh _I’m satisfied with the outcome.”

“Are you kidding me? No way am I conceding!” Kenny had to be fucking with him. Tweek certainly was, and he wouldn’t put it past Craig to go along with it; he knew where his proverbial bread was buttered.

Standing, Kenny abled toward his bedroom offering a flippant, “Sorry, gotta go to Kare’s band concert!”

“You can run, but I won’t forget your betrayal!”

Kenny emerged with a duffle bag over his shoulder and made his way to the front door, all but strutting like a model on a runway. Looking over his shoulder at the group, he winked. “Sorry, can’t hear you over the sound of me being fabulous! Byeee, love you all! Kisses!”

“Kisses? What?” Kyle stared at the door, ignoring Tweek’s wheezy laugh and wondering what the hell his life had become. “That was complete bullshit.”

“Dude, you participated in a formal debate about the Loch Ness monster. How are you taking this so seriously?” 

While Craig’s voice stayed rather neutral, Kyle swore there was an amused undertone to it. “It’s the principle!” 

“Yeah, but does it really seem that important now?”

What even started this Rube Goldberg chain of events. He finally halted and turned to face Craig. “Not as such, no.”

Craig swiveled his recliner around to face the television, and picked up a Switch controller. “Cool. What’s for dinner?” 

Hopping to his feet, Tweek gave Craig’s head a pat and disappeared into the kitchen. “You’ll have to wait and see. Just keep yourselves entertained and stay the hell out of my kitchen.”

Kyle hesitated on the character menu, aimlessly moving his cursor slide over the available choices. His mind was full of jumbled thoughts while an odd fluttering wave rolled in his stomach. He quickly selected Zelda as his player, and let Craig begin the match. 

They played in relative quiet for a couple matches, occasionally commenting on each others brutal or skillful moves. Kyle’s mind wandered toward some nebulous zone that left him on the cusp of recognition and anxious.

“So… How’re things. Looks like you’re doing well.”

Thankful for an excuse to not look at Craig, Kyle concentrated on the tv screen._ Oh you know, having pervy thoughts about your best friend, the normal stuff. _“Compared to a couple months ago? Yeah sure, I’m doing well. I don’t know how much you’ve heard-” Kyle paused to preemptively wave off Craig. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. Best friends and partners get special permissions for sensitive information, don’t they?”

“Tweek hasn’t said anything specific about the relationship, but he wants to help. He worries, but he’s proud of you.”

“He- really?” 

Craig nodded. “Mhmm.”

They were silent for a few moments as Craig selected a map, and since he had brought up the subject, Kyle decided to continue it. “Have you ever been in love, Craig?”

“Yeah, at least, I’m pretty sure I was? I didn’t feel that way too long, though. We broke up after a year, so.” Craig shrugged, and Kyle wondered if that relationship ended on good terms, or if hindsight made it more bearable. “God, that sounds really fucking sad when you say it out loud. That those feelings can just. Stop. We both felt that way, but it was still hard to let go, to not talk to him every day.”

That last part, Kyle could relate to one hundred percent. At this point, Kyle didn’t dwell on the romantic aspects of their relationship, but once in a while he’d see a Youtube video or a sweet old mutt that reminded him that texting or sending Stan a picture wasn’t an option anymore. Maybe Stan really does love Wendy and would make things work between them. 

With graduation and the pressure to start supporting yourself financially looming, the weight of your own mortality set in. There were too many changes and possible outcomes on the horizon, so wanting to keep at least one constant in your life wasn’t ridiculous. Stan could be confused, in love, and scared all at the same time. Jesus Christ, he sure was; confused, horny, and sappy lately. Misguided or not, holding onto some bit of comfort made sense, and Kyle had to admit that he wasn’t immune to that apprehension as well.

“It looks like you and Tweek have gotten pretty close.”

_ Goddammit, why is Craig so observant? _“Oh. Yeah, I guess we have.”

“I could’ve sworn I heard him come out of your room this morning.”

Kyle twitched, miffing his final smash and getting nailed with Ness’s PK Thunder attack by way of Craig. As his character flew off the screen, Klye tried to work out an answer that seemed appropriate. Why did he feel like he was about to get the Dad Talk? “Oh. Well, he was going to sleep on the couch, since he insisted you take his room, but I have a queen size bed. Plenty of room to share.”

The past two weeks were blessedly free of unwanted sexual thoughts, so Kyle extended the sleepover invitation and thought nothing of it. After bullshitting over texts for ten minutes, Kyle told Tweek to just come in so they could continue their conversation face to face. So they did, until they fell asleep with their fingers laced together. Which is what good friends do. Never mind that Tweek could have just as easily slept in Kenny’s empty bed. Or that he woke up to find Tweek’s face nuzzled into his neck. And that he may have- purely on reflex -kissed the top of Tweek’s head.

“Mhmm,” Craig hummed. “Sounds perfectly reasonable.”

“He and Ken both have been far too patient with me, I feel like such an asshole for taking up so much of their time with my stupid shit. Between the two, I never have to be alone if I don’t want to.” Kyle floundered as the game reset the main menu. Craig was waiting for him to continue, he was certain of that. “Has he always been this...gentle? Like, he’s been really comforting”

Craig snorted. “He’s always had a big heart, but I wouldn’t have called him gentle when he was younger.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“He would try to say soothing words, or more like screeched. Tweek had no volume control until he was like, sixteen.”

“Oh my god, I can imagine that perfectly. Has still doesn’t understand what reasonable volume means. God, his car stereo melts my eardrums.”

“Yep, and don’t try to turn it down, he’ll probably bite you.”

“Trust me, I learned the hard way. And when I asked him why he kept it so loud, he said-”

“This is what my mind sounds like.”

“Yeah.”

Craig turned to face Kyle head on, while his face softened, there was weight to his stare. “He’s ferocious, almost feral sometimes, but he’s still soft and squishy, you know?”

Kyle nodded, he knew. Like an angora rabbit, but with the attitude of that killer bunny from that Monty Python movie.

“Wanna see what he looked like as a kid?” Craig shifted in his chair, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“Yes, fucking finally! He won’t show us any pictures of when you guys were kids.” 

Walking over to Kyle, Craig scrolled through his photo albums to one titled “Dumb Kids”. The first photo was Craig, Tweek, Token, and two beaming brunette boys in what looked like high fantasy costumes. 

“You were always tall, I see. Oh, that’s Token! Why isn’t Tweek wearing a shirt? Oh my god, look at that pudge!”

Laughing, Craig flipped through a dozen other photos of the group in those costumes. “He was a little chunk for a while. All the girls thought he was a precious doll. He’d growl at them, but they just thought it was cute. Oh yeah, his parents didn’t really feed him, so he lived off whatever they baked for the coffee shop, and instant mac and cheese. ”

“Wait. His parents didn’t_ feed _him?”

“_ Pfft _no. They’re inept assholes. That’s probably why he learned to cook so young.”

Kyle knew the Tweak’s were ridiculous, but that. They were on another level. No wonder he and Kenny bonded so quickly. Craig flicked to another image. Again, Tweek was shirtless, holding a spear, with his torso covered in painted symbols. 

“Please tell me he didn’t actually put spray paint on his mouth.”

“Heh no. It’s some kind of metallic spray paint for decorating cakes or something.”

“Thank god.” The pictures looked like they were taken during spring or summer, and there was a definite lack of fall leaves or carved pumpkins on porches. These were not Halloween costumes. “Oh,_ oh _are you guys larping?”

Craig put his phone to sleep, then sat stiffly in his chair, hands folded in his lap. “...No. No we are not.”

“It’s okay, I did that with my friends, too.” Kyle brought up his own photoset and flipped to their fantasy games. “Kenny decided to be a princess, then betrayed us to start his own faction.”

“Are those _ rats _?” Craig twisted his eyebrows at an image of ten year old Kenny sitting on the ground in a princess gown. He held a brown rat up to the camera, while two others sat on his skirt.

“Mhmm. He also had a possum who was his lady in waiting. Ah, here she is. Lady Cookiepants.”

A fluffy possum sat at the foot of Princess Kenny’s throne, wearing a purple bow around its neck and clearly washed and groomed. Kenny occupied his throne, flashing a missing tooth as he laughed at Kyle and Eric arguing on the edge of the frame. Kyle had never seen such a sweet smile from Craig until he looked at little Kenny. His eyes crinkled with such pure affection, that Kyle couldn’t even be bothered to be jealous he didn’t have someone look at him that way. 

“Dinner’s ready. Come and get it, ass masters.” 

They both froze, feeling like thirteen year olds caught looking at internet porn by their parents. Ah yes, Kyle recognized this look; the angry rabbit. The one with sharp, pointy fangs and a taste for blood. Tweek narrowed his eyes at phones in their hands. “_ Nngh _what are you doing?!”

Stalking over to Craig, Tweek took the dish towel that was hanging over his shoulder and whipped it at him. “Craig! How could you?”

Craig held his phone above his head as Tweek jumped around him, trying to snatch it. Poking a wound from their childhood, Craig simpered, “Kyle, look at his widdle red cheeks. Aw, you’re so cute when you’re angry, Tweekers.” 

Tweek was growling and huffing as he circled Craig, refusing to give up, though their height difference made the fight one sided._ Yeah, he is. _

Tweek took a flying leap at Craig, bringing them both to the floor in a heap. Dodging Tweek’s gnashing teeth by putting a large hand over his face, Craig thrust his other hand toward Kyle, urging him to take his phone before Tweek got ahold of it. Or drew blood.

Opening Craig’s phone, Kyle hurriedly selected a couple dozed photos and emailed them to himself. To repay the favor, Kyle found a few photos to send to Craig. “Aaand, sent.”

Releasing the half nelson hold he had Tweek in, Craig retrieved his phone from Kyle, chuckling at the thumbnail preview of the pictures Kyle sent.

Tweek stomped into the kitchen, huffing and pouting like a petulant child. “I hate both of you. When I die, you’re not getting any of my stuff. I’m giving half to_ geh _Kenny, and the other half goes to Yvette.”

“Craig, who’s Y-”

“Yvette is the quicksilver that lives in his car.”

“And a quicksilver is?”

“A female poltergeist.”

“That lives in his ancient Honda Accord. And he refers to by name.”

“Well, duh. Ghosts were once people too, Kyle.”

Sighing, Kyle rubbed a hand over his face. “It’s my own fault for asking.” 

* * *

A pair of hands squeezed Kyle’s hips, pulling them down to meet warm, bare skin. The body under him arched, and his partner made a shaky inhale against his ear as their chests pressed together. Eager lips found his, curling into a smile when Kyle tangled his fingers in their hair and tipped their head back with a little tug. Though deep in a dream, the experience felt even more surreal when the man eased Kyle onto his back and climbed astride his hips. In true dream fashion, they didn’t waste time with prep or lubrication, fluidly fusing their bodies and rocking their hips together. This was different than his waking fantasies, not the usual mindless rutting, and definitely not the usual faceless, generic man. Wild, pale hair tickled his chest as Tweek bent forward, slowly trailing-

Tweek. 

The person currently sharing his bed.

_ Of fuck oh fuck oh fuck no please. _

Kyle startled himself awake sitting up in disbelief as the blankets fell off his chest. His skin was clammy and feverish, and instead of soothing, the night air made him feel nauseous. Staring down at his legs, Kyle clutched at his damp tee shirt and tried to breathe deep. Even as his breath steadied, his heart refused to stop hammering in his chest and cool beads of sweat rolled down his temple. 

This was his first dream involving Tweek, and he hadn’t even had sex-obsessed thoughts for weeks! Goddammit, it had to be Craig’s fault, talking about Tweek so much and asking a bunch of questions. Blame and cause aside, he had to get out of this bed right now. 

Once his eyes adjusted to the dark, Kyle dared to check on Tweek. Still asleep, thank god. Kyle had been sleeping on his side, with Tweek behind him, pressing his head between Kyle’s shoulder blades. He’d only moved a bit, rolling to the side and stretching his arms into the empty space Kyle made. Slowly, with more patience than he thought he was capable of, he slid his pillow toward Tweek, and guided it into his outstretched arms. Making a whining grunt, Tweek pressed his fingers into the pillow and pulled it toward his face.

Creeping out from under the covers with as much stealth as he could, Kyle slid out of bed and gathered a pair of socks and running shorts. Before stepping into the hallway, he turned to make sure Tweek was still asleep. What would’ve happened if he’d been curled against Tweek’s back? Or made some gross noise? An icy-hot flush fell over his skin at that thought. He hurried into the bathroom to change. He’d go on a run. He’d tire his body, sweat out all the misplaced energy and hormones until he could sleep like a normal person. Dissecting what actually happened could wait for later.

As Kyle’s sneakers slapped against the concrete, his memory conjured Tweek’s phantom touch; his knobby fingers twitching and curling in his shirt while his body tried to settle for the night. Combing his own fingers through blond hair, gradually falling still and cupping the back of Tweek’s head as he drifted off to sleep.

He pushed harder, lengthening his stride to carry him away from his bed and his friend who was a bizarre mystery and at the same time, familiar and comfortable. A hyperactive weirdo who debated Kyle with curiosity, and not for the sake of arguing. Even when Tweek called him a ginger bitch, Kyle couldn’t decide whether to bend the boy over his knee, or grab him by his wild hair and cover that sassy mouth with-

A small burst of pebbles popped into the air as Kyle skidded to a stop. 

_ Fuck _

Though he was already exhausted, Kyle opened the front door with so much restraint and concentration that he feared he might fall asleep in the process. Standing in the entryway, he heard Tweek and Craig talking in Tweek’s room. They didn’t seem to notice the sound of the door closing and kept talking at normal volume, so Kyle took his chance to dash to the bathroom. 

He closed the door as gently as possible and turned on a stream of cold water, creating as much as a sound barrier as he could. If Tweek tried to talk to him through the door, he’d just pretend he couldn’t hear. When his skin was deep red from the harsh spray, he forced himself to leave the shower. Leaning against the door, he listened for any voices. 

“...gone? He just left. It feels like he’s avoiding me.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, dude. If he’s pissed at you, you’d definitely know. Maybe he couldn’t sleep and had to get up, like you do sometimes? He probably didn’t want to wake you up.”

They were standing by the front door, still talking. Kyle wrapped himself in a towel and leaned his forehead against the wall. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It just seems weird, ya know?”

“Text him later maybe, if you’re still worried. C’mon, dad wants to talk to you about the latest episode of Ancient Aliens. And mom said you have to supervise her making the custard pie, because your directions are bullshit.”

“What?_ Rrrgh _they are not! That’s just the way you make it if you don’t want some overcooked not-quite-omelette, not-quite-quiche abomination!”

“Alright, alright. Let’s get our asses moving so you can tell her that yourself.”

Craig was right, Tweek was more sensitive than he let on. Hurting Tweek was the last thing Kyle intended to do. Sneaking out was his best course of action at the time, but in his panic, he’d not considered the aftermath. Everything he did made the situation more awkward. There was no way Craig and Tweek didn’t hear the shower running, and they lingered at the door, obviously stalling for him to emerge. Great. Fucking fantastic.

* * *

Shirts free of wrinkles, each button slotted in the correct place. How long had it been since they had worn their shirts tucked into their trousers or worn something other than jeans? It had been so long since he dressed up at all. In a belated burst of effort, Kyle added a blue and green plaid bowtie under his collar, but wondered for a moment if he looked too flamboyantly gay. It looked rather smart with his pale blue shirt and charcoal trousers, but was it too much for a senior art exhibition? As he fussed with his hair in the small mirror near the front door, Tweek appeared in the reflection and any concerns about looking too gay evaporated. 

Looking gay couldn’t be a bad thing when Tweek looked like a gay man’s dream. He’d styled his hair away from his face, allowing his grey button down to pick up the neutral earthy tones in his green eyes. With the cuffs of his shirt rolled up his forearms, Kyle wasn’t sure if it was a choice of comfort, or if he was trying to dress down the suspenders he wore. Freaking suspenders. Kyle finally turned away from the mirror to take a look at the real thing. The five foot seven packaging amplified the cuteness, but the slicked back hair and vulpine face was pure sex. Was it possible for a man to look adorable and fuckable all at once? Though the verdict was quickly becoming moot, as Tweek blushed from the inappropriate amount of time Kyle was ogling him. 

“You um, you look very handsome. But, oh, here.” 

Tweek stepped over, reaching up toward Kyle’s face. Though they had been this close many times before, heat spread over Kyle’s body as Tweek adjusted his bow tie. He concentrated on the faint freckles that dotted Tweek’s cheeks, reaching a count of twenty by the time Tweek stopped to appraise his work. 

“There. All better.”

“Thanks. For someone so particular, I can never manage to make a bow symmetric.” He cleared his throat. “You’re beautiful. Um, tonight. I really like your hair like that.”

The hands slid from the bow tie to rest on Kyle’s collarbones. Tweek’s cheeks flushed the longer they stared, and though Kyle couldn’t see his own reflection, the warmth spreading over his face all but confirmed that he had a matching blush. They regarded each other with dopey bovine stares until Tweek pulled his hands away. Reaching past Kyle, he swiped his keys from the end table and took a few steps towards the door. 

“Shall we?”

They’d barely hung out in the few weeks since spring break, and when they did, it was usually in their apartment with Kenny, or their other friends in group outings. In the few times the night ended with just the two of them, either Kyle or Tweek would get up to say goodnight right as they began to nod off, leaving a weighted pall in the air. When Tweek had asked Kyle to accompany him tonight, it felt like a challenge. Time to nut up. Because something had to give.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight, dude.” 

Tweek gave Kyle a shy and unsure smile. He must have felt their weird tension, which was a relief; Kyle had began to think he’d fabricated the whole mess. “Of course! I like art, but I don’t think I’ve ever been to any of the student exhibitions? Which is pretty shitty, considering that a fair number of fine arts majors have participated in my research studies.”

“Sorry it was kinda last minute. I thought I’d confirmed with Bebe, but she already had plans with Heidi.”

“Oh, is that who Kenny’s going to the hookah bar with?” 

“That’s what happened? Why the hell didn’t Kenny tell me?”

That wasn’t entirely surprising, the scheduling mixup smacked of Kenny’s meddling. It was unlikely that Tweek had made a mistake, he tended to check and recheck plans almost compulsively, worried he’d initiate some disastrous clusterfuck that would create a domino effect and ruin someone’s chances at a future opportunity.

Kyle nudged Tweek’s plastic wine cup with his own. “Are you um, enjoying your wine?”

“Mmm yes, the riesling pairs well with the green apple Jolly Rancher I already had in my mouth.”

“Indeed. The Syrah has heady notes of oak, akin to chewing on driftwood. Is this Syrah? It’s red, that’s a kind of wine, right?”

Tweek laughed and shook his head. “I have no idea dude. I’ve mixed wine and Sprite, and actually_ liked _it. You probably shouldn’t listen to me.”

“So, what kind of art do you like? Time period, medium, whatever.” Kyle met Tweek’s eyes and felt the knot in his stomach loosen. 

Tweek hadn’t changed, he was the same Tweek he’d become close with. Kyle’s perception had changed, which only meant that he could appreciate Tweek from a new angle.

Tweek gave Kyle a smirk. “Hmm. Why don’t you try to guess? You like a challenge, right?”

“Alright.” Kyle hummed in thought, wondering whether to go straight, or to tease Tweek. “I don’t know the specific period. Renaissance? The paintings with fat babies and cherubs whispering in peoples’ ears and pointing across battlefields. I bet you love those apple cheeked angels and all the religious propaganda. Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I?”

“_ Rrgh _no way, they’re so creepy! Are they babies, are they tiny adults? It’s not okay!” Tweek started walking along a wall of mixed media pieces, absently scanning over the bits of newsprint and fiber. 

“I like sculptures and installations that are glass, or at least transparent? Especially when they’re hung from the ceiling. It looks so open and clean, and can have a really big impact even if there’s just a repeating pattern or like three colors. That kind of stuff is um, peaceful. It’s what I see in my head when I’m trying to calm down.” As he spoke, Tweek’s words gained speed, galloping along until he abruptly paused and lowered his voice. “S-sorry, I’m rambling. Tell me about your favorites, don’t make me guess.”

That made a surprising amount of sense. A presence that wasn’t overbearing or cloying with numerous rich colors. Drawing from a scant few aesthetic elements and utilizing them to the fullest so that every inch had intention and purpose. That sounded like Tweek.

“For me, well. Impressionist painters, like Renoir and Monet. Everything is soft around the edges, and the colors are vivid, but not harsh; everything is balanced. And it has a mystique, like there’s a guarded secret that makes the jumble of swatches become hair, or trees, or shadows. I know it’s only brushstrokes and skill, but I don’t want to know how it’s done. I like to imagine there being a little more magic to it. Now who’s rambling, huh?”

Tweek’s hand came to rest on Kyle’s arm. “Nope, not rambling. I like when you use your imagination. You don’t think you have one, but you do.” He lingered a moment like that before giving Kyle’s arm a squeeze and letting go. “You know, I’m surprised. I would have pegged you as a Jackson Pollock stan.”

“Are you kidding? He’s totally overrated. I could paint that stuff with my dick.” His cheeks started to burn as Tweek sputtered into his plastic wine cup. Groaning, Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. “...And I just realized that statement was even more fucked up than I meant it to be. Sorry, I’m in a ‘mood’ today, apparently.”

Tweek squinted at Kyle a moment until his eyes went wide. With his shoulders shaking, he started to laugh, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth as people turned to look at him. He eventually recovered enough to wheeze out, “Oh my god, Kyle. Please do not tell me how you make different colors.”

The warmth in his cheeks reignited and crept down his neck. They stared at each other, Kyle trying to salvage his dignity while Tweek’s giggle fit started up again. Tweek was biting his lips closed and the pink blush splashed over his face had covered his freckles; he looked so sweet and joyful that Kyle couldn’t believe that_ he _was the source of that. Putting his hand at the small of Tweek’s back, he steered him toward one of the doors.

“Come on, let’s go to the courtyard before we embarrass ourselves. And there are sculptures out there too, probably.” 

God, he really was in a mood. One glass of wine had him making tasteless jokes and straight up_ flirting _with Tweek. Kyle had a sense of humor, but he wasn’t funny, so the possibility that he could make Tweek laugh? His strong opinions, persnickety tastes, short fuse, on top of the months of being a mopey downer hadn’t pushed him away. Tweek invited him tonight despite the awkward stalemate they’d been in since Kyle snuck out of bed that morning. 

Something about tonight felt different, like the evening was full of possibilities, and an evening with Tweek usually promised that. It was_ happiness _he felt. He’d made it to the other side, and so his world had begun to expand. His grades, nor his relationships or general outlook on life were perfect, but after the months of rebuilding himself he was satisfied, and content to move on to something new. While he knew better than to attribute too many of his changes and pleasant mood to his new closeness with Tweek, Kyle decided that at least tonight would be about them; what they were and what could be.

“The hell is this supposed to be, a giant Sharpie pen?”

Kyle circled the sculpture, looking for the plaque. He squatted down and read the small metal plate. “Oh my god, it is. It’s a ripoff of that famous Claes Oldenburg piece. You know, the giant pencil?”

“Well fuck me sideways. What grade do you think the artist got for it?”

“Depends on whether the professor is a pretentious asshat, or an acid-dropping hippie. Either way, I’m not feeling it.”

Tweek tapped an index finger against his chin as he scrutinized the sculpture. “Hmm yes… Shallow and pedantic.” 

“Did you just quote Family Guy?”

“I- uh. Maybe? Uhh…_ Rrrgh _, let’s go through the fountain!”

“Oh no no no. No way, absolutely not. I’m cursed, this sort of thing always ends terribly for me.” God, he sounded like such a whiny baby, but looking silly was his Achilles heel, He never learned to handle it with grace or humor.

“Come on,_ pleeeeease _?”

“Are you used to getting your way by whining?”

“Duh, I’m an only child. Actually no, my parents gave me their credit card when I was eight, I bought whatever I wanted.”

“Oh I see, you’re just spoiled.”

Tweek’s cheeks puffed out, looking adorably indignant. “No, I hardly bought anything! I was too afraid of getting arrested for fraud or identity theft! I just used it to order takeout and the occasional videogame. But, you! Are trying to distract me! C’mon. Fountain.” 

Kyle groaned and shook his head.

“It’s just water, man. What’s the worst that could happen, you get your clothes wet? Or there’s some sort of flesh-eating bacteria in the water and we end up with Ebola, a-and -“

“Okay. Okay, Tweek. You’re right, it’s just water. I’ll do it.”

Grinning, Tweek snatched his hand and broke into a jog before Kyle had finished his sentence. At the edge of the fountain, Tweek tucked their linked hands at the small of his back to guide Kyle behind him; he took the hint, falling in single file, though still dubious about the whole situation. They took off through the maze of impeccably timed jets, with Tweek narrowly dodging the walls of water and cackling while Kyle tried to keep up with him. He let Tweek pull him along, hopping past plumes of water that were twice their height, and whipping him around sharp turns. It was nice to be led. 

Kyle wondered how the hell Tweek knew where he was going. Perhaps he made a habit of coming here to watch the choreography and run the gauntlet. That sounded strange as hell, but not out of character. Certainly he wasn’t just fucking with him and improvising his path. Right? Either way, everything was going swimmingly, at least until Tweek deadass stopped, his upper body lurching as he rocked forward on the balls of his feet. Kyle scrambled to grab Tweek by the waist and pulled him back. He let out a yelp as he fell against Kyle’s chest, and after taking a fraction of a second to pause, Tweek tugged Kyle into motion again.

“Abort! Abort! Delta pattern!”

Grasping Kyle’s hand in his own, Tweek tore off, running in a random direction to escape the fountain, dodging and leaping in a serpentine path to reach dry land. They managed to avoid most of the jets, with Kyle only wet up to his ankles and one of Tweek’s arms soaked. Kyle looked down at their linked fingers as they trotted back to the sculptures, and noticed that Tweek had taken his left hand. 

Tweek knew he was ambidextrous, pointing out that Kyle switched the knife between hands as they and Kenny prepared dinner one evening; Kyle remembered explaining that he usually favored one of his hands for particular things. His right for driving and writing, his left for eating, brushing his teeth, and hand holding. For a moment his chest squeezed at the thought Tweek took his left hand on purpose. Such a silly thought, but exciting nonetheless. 

Breathless and laughing, they slumped against the ridiculous Sharpie sculpture to recover. As Kyle dropped his forehead onto Tweek’s shoulder, he felt Tweek’s spindly fingers untangle from the front of his shirt and begin smoothing the fabric against his chest. Instinctively leaning into his touch, Kyle pressed a cheek to the tuft of blond hair at Tweek’s temple. This had become their pattern, their ritual; soothing and grounding each other with simple contact and the beat of their hearts. In the heavy shadows of the courtyard, Kyle watched Tweek’s hand as it rested on his chest, the pale skin undulating with the rise and ebb of his breath. Gazing down the slope of Tweek’s snip of a nose, a flutter of lashes tickled his cheek, and Kyle shifted his face to stifle a shiver. Their noses brushed.

Tweek’s lips were soft, despite the way he chewed on them, maybe he used balm. There was more pressure against his lips as Tweek raised on his toes, trying to meet Kyle easier. Once they found a rhythm together, Kyle dipped his tongue into Tweek’s mouth and was met with an enthusiastic lick. 

They were _kissing_, and Tweek matched his enthusiasm measure for measure. Unruly blond waves wove between his fingers, springing free each time Tweek changed the angle of the kiss. The palm on his chest felt searing as Tweek’s fingertips pressed into him, the warmth spread over his body, even where they weren't connected. Sliding a hand to the small of Tweek’s back, Kyle nudged him closer.

When their lips parted they remained clinging, fingers tangled in hair, sweating palms against hot skin. They only moved to search each other’s faces for rejection, or a wordless request for more. As the silence stretched between them, Tweek’s eyes turned down at the outer corners, giving him a melancholy and apologetic expression, and Kyle knew what happened next could turn Tweek’s world on end, because Tweek had already done the same for him. 

The longer they stared, the fine glimmer of fountain mist coating Tweek’s eyelashes began to bead together, taking on the appearance of gathering tears. Looking at the ground, Tweek took a step back. It was more than Kyle could take, for Tweek try to brush it off like nothing happened, and put on a brave face. So he cupped Tweek’s face and swept the pads of his thumbs over the lashes to collect the droplets. Tweek blinked, his eyes widening in confusion. Kyle had to make him understand that he wanted this, that this night wouldn’t be a one-time memory. 

“Tweek, don’t be afraid. I want this. I want you.”

Tweek let out a strangled squeak as Kyle stepped forward to close the distance. A look of amazement stayed in Tweek’s muddy green eyes while he blinked up at Kyle.

_ “Nnngh?” _

Kyle could have laughed, he could have swallowed up that sweet and ridiculous sound with his mouth, but instead, he beamed. Not with a face-splitting grin, but a serene smile, ecstatic to be here in this moment, together. He_ must _be glowing. Holding Tweek tight, Kyle brushed their lips together. “Should we go home?”

Letting out a shaky laugh, Tweek nodded. “Definitely.”

* * *

They had been frantic until now, but cloistered in Kyle’s bedroom, they slowed. Taking Tweek’s hand, Kyle slowly led him to his bed. Their lips came together, taking time to separate after each kiss before connecting again, until the back of Tweek’s thighs bumped into the mattress. And oh, Tweek was pulling him into his lap. Despite Kyle’s lanky limbs, Tweek cradled him, squeezing their bodies together.

Kyle watched as Tweek skimmed his fingers over the button on his fly, but his eyes kept returning to Tweek’s flushed lips. He wanted to know how they would feel against his own as their naked bodies pressed together, if they’d part and gasp if he touched Tweek just right. With their hands meandering around the waistbands of each others pants, and their bashfulness finally set in. In those moments, their connection was tenuous, everything that could happen next was a culmination of everything they felt for each other. 

Tweek continued to restrain himself, but that wouldn’t do, Kyle wanted Tweek to fall apart in his hold so he piece him back together. With bravado he normally didn’t possess, he slid his hand down and rubbed his palm over the front of Tweek’s trousers. Tweek’s eyes immediately snapped up to meet his before fluttering closed. Pressing harder, he squeezed the tight bulge under Tweek’s clothes. Almost immediately, Tweek responded to his touch, tilting his hips into Kyle’s hand with a sigh. Kyle was afraid he would melt into a viscous puddle, saddling Tweek with his dead weight. The nerve wracking part was over. The part where you constantly worried that your partner would push you away at any time, or if they would second guess wanting to put their hands on you in a very non-platonic way.

Kyle had seen Tweek in various states of undress around their apartment, and this was nothing he hadn’t seen before, but right the fuck now, it was only for him, and that made all the difference. Tweek was laying there, waiting, in a pair of absurdly skimpy black briefs, so low on his hips that they barely covered the base of his dick, which was just plain rude. With his unbuttoned shirt hanging off his shoulders and his blond waves framing his face, Tweek belonged in a pinup calendar. 

Kyle suddenly felt inadequate in his generic plaid boxers from The Gap. But then, Tweek smiled at him, looking excited and a little shy as his eager fingers worked the buttons on his shirt. With each open button, Tweek trailed his fingertips over Kyle’s chest. He was cautious, like Kyle was wary fawn. Which wasn’t entirely wrong, he’d always been modest about his body. He opened his mouth to say something, but Tweek placed a finger over his lips, cutting him off. 

“Hush, you’re gorgeous.” When Ky pulled a face, Tweek pressed harder. “Nope. Just accept it, take the damn compliment.” Replacing his finger with his lips, Tweek whispered again. “Absolutely stunning. You even taste amazing.”

His eyes followed the little cleft running between Tweek’s hipbone and the curve of his abdomen, but his body took over and his lips and tongue were tracing that same spot. Tweek always seemed a bit too thin, which summoned vaguely erotic thoughts of plumping him up with sweets fed by Kyle’s own fingers; but against his hands, his mouth, Tweek was soft and warm. Perfect. 

Dragging his wet lips through the trail of baby fine hair down his pelvis, Tweek’s fingers twitched as he made a startled gasp. That was a good start, but Kyle wanted to hear more. It was almost too much, how tight Tweek’s cock was squeezed into that small pair of underwear. Kyle’s mind swam with thoughts of the weight of it on his tongue, in his hands, inside him. Cradling Tweek’s hips with one arm, he began to tug at the waistband of the black briefs, his mouth kissing each inch of bare skin he uncovered. Tweek moaned, a needy, mewling sound, as lips brushed the blond curls at the base of his cock.

He took Tweek into his mouth, moaning around the hot skin as Tweek hissed. He needed to make this slow and hypnotic, to edge Tweek for as long as they could both stand. While he longed to look at Tweek’s face, to watch every expression and admire the way his pretty lips parted when he moaned, he couldn’t; such a sight would break any amount of restraint he had left. Instead, he lost himself in the way his own soft, wet, sounds twined with Tweek’s lilting sighs. Sweet and soothing, Kyle intended to tease the desire from his body as if it was a trail of vapor wafting from his pores. 

Tweek seemed enamoured with winding Kyle’s curls around his fingers and brushing them back to caress his face while he murmured sweet and dirty things to him, and as though he couldn’t stop himself, Tweek started making shallow rolls with his hips, pressing his cock against Kyle’s tongue. Kyle tried to be gentle, petting and soothing as he promised to make him come. And while Kyle was the one worshipping and pleasing, Tweek never ceased cooing soft praise at him like he was a darling thing.

Whining, Tweek bucked his hips and pulled Kyle back. “_Ahh _Kyle please. Let me touch you.”

Kyle conceded, only to have Tweek hook his toes in the waistband of his boxers and begin pushing them down before he was even settled at the top of the bed. Kyle moaned from deep in his belly as Tweek wrapped his fingers around his cock and gave it a few slow strokes. Rolling Kyle onto his back, Tweek kept a firm grip while he kissed over his neck.

“Fuck, you’re too talented at that," Tweek chuckled. "Such a good boy. So, so good.”

His dick became wet and slick in Tweek’s fist, and Kyle mewled into Tweek’s ear. So easily he’d already found Kyle’s weakness, as though he wasn’t even trying. Praise like this was a new, but some misaligned part of his deepest desires slotted together while Tweek murmured to him. And they way Tweek spoke. Never had he felt so adored. Wasn’t that all Kyle ever wanted, to be good and good to someone else?

Between kissing and gasping into each others mouths, Tweek managed to ask, “Want to keep going?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” Kyle sat up and began rummaging in his nightstand to retrieve condoms and lube.

Fuck, they had to have that awkward conversation before this went any further; he would not be willfully ignorant this time around, especially not with Tweek. Tonight wasn’t only about sex. Kyle didn’t have the fortitude to keep offering up his heart, only to have it handed back to him in worse condition than it was given; but then to have to nurture and repair it, then find the courage to offer it to someone new? 

Rolling over, Kyle pulled Tweek’s back against his chest and hooked his chin over his shoulder. “Wait...wait w-we need to talk about what we’re doing. I don’t even know if you’ve been seeing someone lately.”

“_Nnngh _no.” Tweek shook his head right away. “It’s been like, four months since I went on anything... um, date-like...”

His sentence sputtered out as Kyle pressed his lips to the back of his neck, trailing warm breath from the nape to the delicate skin behind his ear. “A few months? That’s quite a dry spell for you.”

Tweek’s hum of pleasure melted into a growl. “You’re such a brat.” He paused, and in the slim bit of light coming through the window, Kyle saw a blush rising on Tweek’s face. “No, I didn’t want to. It just seemed pointless.”

“Hey, hey I’m just teasing. I think it’s lovely, you deserve so much more. It’s just. I’m not just messing around here, you know? And I’m not going to pretend like I can do that.”

Tweek turned to face Kyle, guiding their faces close. The warm exhales were soothing against his skin, but at the same time sent a thrilling shiver to his groin. “I’d never ask that of you. I’m serious about this, but I don’t want to corner you into something you’re not sure of, or not ready for.”

“No, I’m ready. For this, whatever wild conspiracies we get caught up in, and the sappy, gay feelings that come with it.”

“I think that’s the most romantic thing a naked boy has ever said to me.”

Laughing into Tweek’s hair, Kyle offered, “How do you want to do this? Uh, do you? Or?” He trailed off as he softly ran his hands over Tweek’s body, hoping that was specific enough.

Tweek shifted into him, slotting their noses side by side as he gave Kyle a quick kiss. “I uh. Well, I only have a strong preference if I’m in a _mood_.“

“In that case, then… I want you to. Our first time doesn’t have to also be my first time…”

Tweek cupped one of Ky’s cheeks in his palm. “You’ve never topped?”

Kyle shook his head.

Tweek dove forward, stifling any response Kyle had with his lips. The kiss was free of the blind lust it could’ve had, and instead, Kyle felt like he was precious to him. 

“Next time. Definitely next time, and as many times as you want after that.” Settling onto his side Tweek squeezed some lube onto his fingers. “Because you,” Tweek kissed him. Once. Twice. “Are so sweet.”

Though as Tweek slid his hand between Kyle’s freckled thighs, Kyle took hold of it. Grasping Tweek’s hand, he slipped one of the slick fingers inside himself and tilted his hips to meet it. 

“Maybe. But I'm not always sweet.”

Tweek’s eyes darkened, and the look of feral arousal that washed over his face was quite a reward, but even as those long fingers began to stroke him into a writhing mess, Kyle knew exactly what he was doing. They both had a control complex, and clearly, it turned Tweek on just as much as it did him. This wouldn’t be the only occurrence, that was certain. They were destined to tease each other into submission, and battle for dominance; the thought alone lit a crackling fire inside him

Tweek kept the pace slow, punctuating his deep and probing thrusts by grazing Kyle’s prostate as he buried his fingers to the knuckles. Though they were close enough for their lips to touch, they only managed to moan humid puffs of air at each other. Once Kyle had three fingers inside, he moved against Tweek with increasing force, his eyelids fluttering closed on their own accord. It was oddly comforting, almost loving, the way Tweek touched him, and Kyle thought this wouldn’t be a bad way to fall asleep each night. Was that weird? Probably. His bubble of reverie popped when he heard Tweek growl.

“Fuck, Ky. Jesus Christ.”

Following Tweek’s line of sight, he looked between their bodies where Tweek was enraptured by his fingers disappearing and reappearing in time with the rolling of Kyle’s hips. It took him a moment to connect what he saw to what he felt, realizing how enthusiastically he was fucking himself; Tweek wasn’t even moving his hand anymore, just keeping his wrist in place to massage his balls. He let out a breathless laugh. Wow, alright. He was goddamn thirsty, but he wanted this. He wanted Tweek, and his desire was scorching him from the inside out.

“Not always sweet? You’re downright filthy.” Tweek swooped down to give one of his nipples a bite. “And it’s fucking _perfect_.”

Giving Tweek a wicked smirk, Kyle took his hand and ground himself against it. “Next time, why don’t you ride me, break me in?”

Dirty talk wasn’t a habit of his, and though he made the decision to continue it, he wasn’t sure if he could keep up. He was getting ahead of himself, but he had ideas about what Tweek liked, and he was eager to test them. And god damn, did he ever want that; his little rabbit in his lap, smacking their skin together as he squeezed his hips with those firm thighs.

“Please, make me come on your cock.” Tweek bit his neck, sucking hard enough to make Kyle moan as he imagined the bruise that would be there tomorrow. “Fill me with your cum and fuck it out of my ass.” Tweek took a nipple into his mouth, alternating worrying it between his teeth. “Let me lick it off your dick.”

That was the filthiest thing someone has ever said to him; the explicitness left Kyle totally thunderstruck, not to mention the questionable hygienics. Never mind that he posed the question with the thought of Tweek coming while sitting on his dick, but now that he was practically begging for it... Despite the way heat bloomed over his face in embarrassment, Kyle found himself extracting Tweek’s fingers and flipping him onto his back, taking no pause before he began rutting their cocks together. 

How many days could they stay in bed to try whatever weird and wonderful things they thought up, and still pass their finals? But Kyle was already accepted into grad school, and no matter how horribly he did on his exams, he wouldn’t fail any classes; moreover, Tweek was a master of the last minute exam cram. It was definitely worth a try. Hopefully Kenny wouldn’t try to hose them down with cold water, and would invest in a good set of headphones. Perhaps he should get him a pair as a gift for all his support.

They couldn’t stop kissing, their wet lips touching anywhere they reached while they pressed their hips together. When Kyle gave Tweek a particularly hard bite on his neck, Tweek started massaging the entrance of his ass, and Kyle had to break away. Staring at the shining precome smeared over their stomachs, he groaned.

“Tweek please, I can’t wait anymore.”

Kyle sighed and tried to push every bit of air from his lungs as Tweek slid inside him. It was gentle, but Tweek didn’t pause, and he definitely wasn’t trying to tease. He got the feeling that Tweek was trying to restrain himself, to hold back so they could take their time. Kyle liked the sound of that; it made him feel desired, and not just an object to be claimed. The warm sensation of being filled made him trembl, and unable to hold back any longer, he pressed himself into Tweek, finally connecting their hips and becoming fully seated. He moaned at the needy ache the contact created, and began rolling his hips to encourage Tweek to start moving.

Tweek slid Kyle’s hands along the sheets and pinned them above his head, pressing their palms together and linking their fingers. Batting pillows out of the way, Tweek leaned his weight into their hands for leverage, then gave a timid roll of his hips. He squeezed with his thrusts, reveling in each tortuous drag of the cock inside him. Tweek's desperate moans were making Kyle dizzy, and his cock ached while it lay wet against his stomach. Hitching up his hips, he bucked into Tweek, who responded with enthusiasm. The sensation was overwhelming, to touch someone he knew so well and still explore a new part of them. The thrust wasn’t tentative, no, it was full of intent, like he wanted to pet every nerve inside Kyle.

Bracing his arms, Tweek pressed into Kyle’s palms. Tweek forced his hips down, pushing inside as deep as he could. Each time he bottomed out, he gave an extra pulse of his hips made Kyle’s body slide further up the bed. It became a hypnotic seesaw, Tweek’s intense thrusts rocking his body away, and Kyle grinding back into him. They moved together hard and slow with Tweek’s cock brushing over that blessed bundle of nerves, like he was unraveling Kyle’s orgasm like a ball of string.

He bucked his hips in a sharp, pointed thrust that had Tweek shouting crying out. Good lord, he hoped they wouldn’t wake Kenny, but he was desperate to hear all the sounds he could draw from Tweek. 

“Good?”

“Yeah.” Tweek giggled and kissed Kyle’s chest. “Do it again, Kyle.” His voice was light and airy, lyrical with pleasure. Kyle was convinced. Giggles were sexy.

“I like hearing you say my name, especially like this.”

“Well then, you’d better make me say it more, hmm?”

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. They were so close, closer than he’d ever felt to someone before, truly synchronized and treating each other with a reverence reserved only for a favorite person. Is this what was meant by ‘making love’? That term always made Kyle cringe, it had an air of quick efficient missionary position to it; but this was every part of them intertwining, appreciating every curve and imperfection of their bodies. 

“_Ngh _. I- gonna come, I can’t-” Tweek’s hips hitched, and Kyle felt the muscles in his thighs clench.

Cupping Tweek’s face, Kyle demanded his attention. He wasn’t ready for this to be over, Tweek was bursting with light and energy, and he wanted to feel warm and full as long as possible. Keeping him steady, Kyle watched his gaze sharpen and the haze melt away. “You can hold on a little while longer, can’t you? Please?”

Tweek made a pouty whine, but nodded. His eyes were wet and his chest heaved as he rolled his hips. So deconstructed and vulnerable. Kyle wanted to tell Tweek how beautiful he looked right now, how he wished he’d figured all this out sooner, but his voice only came out in a moan. He was lost in the waves of trembling static that came from the incessant nudges to his prostate. Something in his nervous system shifted and Kyle became aware of every breath, every crease in Tweek’s lips, each one of his tawny eyelashes. 

Tweek moved to take Kyle in his fist, but Kyle brushed his hand away. He wanted Tweek to keep doing exactly what he was doing without distraction. Clamping a hand over each cheek of his ass, Kyle held him in place, pumping his hips frantically when Tweek’s movements became erratic. But when Tweek pleaded in his strained and raspy voice, Kyle was undone, never so content to be broken down and flayed open.

“Oh god, please._Please Kyle. _I can’t.”

“It’s alright, let go. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Their eyes were locked together when they came, first Tweek with a sobbing moan, and then Kyle soon after, drowning his shout into the crook of Tweek’s neck. The orgasm wracked his hips in such a primal way, he thought he’d lost his last shred of sensibility. Panting and sweating, they embraced while broken strings of praise and endearment poured between them, semi-coherent, but no less ardent in meaning.

* * *

Soft morning light filtered through the window blinds, painting golden stripes on the wall in Kyle’s line of sight. Vaguely aware of being conscious, he groaned at the faint chill on the left side of his body, in favor of snuggling into the warmth on his other side. Content to fall back asleep, Kyle closed his eyes, only to open them a few seconds when his bedroom door cracked open.

“Hey, Ky, have you seen Tweek? We were gonna go to the park and keep the drakes from harassing the new mother ducks, but he’s not in his room.” There was a pause, and Kenny let out a low whistle. “Never mind, I found him.”

_ Kenny? What the hell is he talking about? What about Drake, is he memeable again? _

Kyle heard the smirk in his voice, and after a few moments to orient himself and place the warm weight that rested over his body, Kenny’s words sunk in._ Oh. OH. _His eyes cleared, as he remembered how he ended the previous evening. The apartment, in his bed, yes. But not alone.

Kyle was bare on top of his sheets, which wasn’t terribly concerning because Tweek was draped over him. Tweek and Kenny didn’t give a shit about nudity and frequently hung around their apartment buck naked, but Kyle. Kyle was bashful, and despite the lack of privacy between the three, this situation held gravitas. 

He tried to pull the covers up, but they were mangled and twisted under their bodies, and refused to budge. In a last ditch effort to preserve some honor, Kyle placed his hands over Tweek’s ass, covering what he could reach. He looked up at Kenny and gave him a sheepish smile.

“Yeah, I guess I found him, too?”

Kenny snorted. “Uh huh, I’ll say.”

Tweek shifted a bit, and Kyle started to panic. He couldn’t wait for Tweek to wake, but he preferred it to happen when they were alone. He gave Kenny a pleading look._ Please. Please, go before he wakes up. We can talk about this later, you can bust my balls all you want, just let me have this moment alone with him. _

Thankfully, Kenny nodded and quietly closed the door. They’d known each other since kindergarten, Kenny would understand, wouldn’t he?_ About finding you and Tweek naked in your bed, you mean. _Okay, okay, he just needed to breathe. Slow, measured breaths. In and out. Everything would be fine, Kenny didn’t seem upset at all, and the three of them would be fine.

After the hammering in his chest subsided, drowsiness drifted back to him, carrying the memories they created just before falling asleep.

_ Tweek touched Kyle’s jaw, lazily dragging his finger over the burgeoning stubble. _

_ “You said you probably need glasses?” _

_ Kyle hummed in agreement. While he usually had no shortage of things to say, his mind was clear, and he was content to let Tweek murmur soft things. “I have trouble seeing the front of lecture halls, and road signs are fuzzy.” _

_ “You should get rectangular frames, you’d look handsome. Maybe grey? It would bring out the green in your eyes.” _

_ The tip of Tweek’s index finger moved to Kyle’s nose. The nose Kyle hated, but Tweek took the opportunity to trace several times before continuing to speak. _

_ “I’d never let you be the one who got away. I’d fight for you, every time.” _

_ Kyle met Tweek’s eyes, taking in every beige and grey fleck in his pale green irises. He tried to memorize everything about the soft way his eyelids hovered, and his pupils swam with unending emotion. _

_ “I don’t plan on leaving you behind, Tweek.” _

_ “Good. Then let me love you.” _

Over the course of the evening they’d blown through a list of things that traditionally took months to accomplish, but what was shocking was that he wouldn’t change a damn thing. They’d committed to each other after one kiss, or even before, but they always dove in head first; they both knew what they wanted as soon as it crossed their minds, though gut instinct sometimes failed, it was their choice. 

Tweek stirred again and blinked his eyes open, turning his face towards Kyle’s. Kyle blushed furiously, realizing he was still cupping Tweek’s naked ass, never mind the way they touched each other a few hours ago. Slowly, Kyle lifted a hand and began to run his fingers over Tweek’s scalp. Tweek- his Tweek -nestled into his touch and let his cheek smoosh against Kyle’s chest.

“Hey, Tweek.” 

“Hey, Ky.”

* * *

Kyle came to a stop at the top of the trail, bending down to adjust his shoelaces before he turned back to check on Tweek. Approaching, Tweek slowed, dragging his feet while groaning in protest. Tweek openly admitted that he’d always hated running, but after getting woken up by Kyle leaving for a morning run several times, he agreed to give it a try.

“I can’t do it, man. I’m not made for this, I’m supposed to lay in the grass, and watch the clouds.”

Kyle watched in amusement as Tweek leaned down and let his arms dangle to the ground. After a defiant huff, he began picking up pebbles and throwing them down the sidewalk.

“Smoking probably doesn’t help your heart or your lungs, dude.” 

“I only smoke like one or two cigarettes a week!” Standing up, Tweek shot Kyle a haughty look.

Kyle shrugged. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t.”

“But! The employees at the tobacco places would lose their jobs. A-and I need to give Rob Reiner the finger!_ He’s such a douche. _”

“I’m not sure that’s how the tobacco industry works-_ Wait _, did Rob Reiner harass your town too?” Jesus, that guy got around. He was a giant douche, Kyle agreed with that completely.

“Yeah, but doesn’t he do that to everyone?”

“Yeah, I guess he does. But, you. Are stalling. C’mon, we’re almost home. I’ll race you to the end of the street.” He combed his fingers through Tweek’s windswept hair, pushing it away from his forehead before placing a kiss there. 

“_ Hnng _not everyone used to run cross country. And don’t you ever get tired of winning?”

Kyle hooked his chin over Tweek’s shoulder and nuzzled his face into his neck, breathing in the light scent of his sweat and shampoo. “Next time, you get to pick the activity, alright?”

He chuckled as Tweek huffed and gave him a reluctant nod. Someone was full of sass today. Slipping his hands around Tweek’s waist, Kyle hugged him close, giving him little squeezes until he started to squirm and giggle. “Who said I have to win? Besides, I love following behind you just as much.” Releasing Tweek, Kyle gave him a smack on the butt. “Now get that ass in gear.”

With a startled yelp, Tweek took off down the street, weaving back and forth to either side of the sidewalk. He wasn’t aware that he didn’t run in a straight line, and Kyle found it so endearing, he wouldn’t even consider telling Tweek about it in case he tried to correct it. Thirty feet ahead of him, Tweek looked back to stick his tongue out, before surging forward. Breaking into a run, Kyle chased after him. As Kyle neared, Tweek started yelling that the Ginger Illuminati was after him, while Kyle just laughed at the bewildered people they passed.

It was nice to be led, but it was even better to run side by side. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @hagspice on all the things, come say hi!


End file.
